A Fine Frenzy: Outtakes
by arainymonday
Summary: Missing moments from my story A Fine Frenzy, in which New Directions and Warblers perform A Mid-Summer Night's Dream.
1. Eat Your Scarves

**Disclaimer:** I'm just playing in the Glee sandbox. If you recognize it from elsewhere, I don't own it.  
><strong>Established Ships:<strong> Klaine, Brittana, Samcedes, Finchel, Tike, Luck, Nuinn (Nick/Quinn), some Warblers/OCs  
><strong>Timeline:<strong> Summer 2011 (between Seasons 2 and 3)  
><strong>Rating:<strong> K+ / T  
><strong>Spoilers: <strong>All of Season 1 and 2

**Author's Note:** Hello, I'm Heather. I'll be your author for this one-shot series.

These "outtakes" are moments that never made it into my very long, very complex story _A Fine Frenzy_. They are all some form of filler, backstory, or tangential scene that did not move the main plot forward. I still had a desire to write these scenes, however, so I've decided to post them separate from _A Fine Frenzy_.

Most of these scenes can stand on their own, but I've made sure to include a brief recap at the start of every one-shot anyway. It's not necessary to read _A Fine Frenzy_ if you'd rather just enjoy these scenes, but I would highly recommend reading the recaps in that case. Needless to say, everything here is a spoiler for _A Fine Frenzy_.

I have a long list of one-shots to write, so be sure to add an author or story alert to get an e-mail when a new one-shot is posted. Thank you for reading and even more for reviewing.

* * *

><p><strong>Previously in <em>A Fine Frenzy<em> ...**

_Brittany probably had no idea what was going on, but if she was able to speak Elizabethan English in iambic pentameter, Kurt would eat all his Hermes scarves._

**o o o**

_Sharing the stage did nothing to diminish Blaine's stage presence. He was every bit as charismatic as during glee club competitions, and Will had to admit Brittany killed Audrey's part. He felt Shannon's shoulders shaking with laughter, and Emma had a hand pressed over her mouth to stifle her giggles._

_"That's going to be tough to follow," Shannon said breathlessly, dabbing at her eyes, after Blaine and Brittany left the stage._

* * *

><p><strong>A Fine Frenzy<strong>  
>"<strong>Eat Your Scarves"<strong>

Wednesday afternoon saw Burt and Carole bustling around the kitchen trying to prepare everything just right for the surprise celebratory party. After he accidentally confused baking soda and flour for the second time, Burt started to wonder if he wasn't more of a hindrance than help to his wife. He would have gotten out of her way, but watching _Deadliest Catch_ while his wife slaved away in the kitchen didn't sit well with him.

"How about I start on the decorations?"

Carole smiled appreciatively at him. "They're in the box behind the couch. Don't push yourself too hard, Burt."

"My heart isn't going to give out from standing on a chair and pinning streamers."

Getting Kurt and Finn out of the house to prepare for the party hadn't been easy. Normally, a surprise party for their sons would involve Blaine and Rachel keeping them away all day, but Burt and Carole had decided Blaine and Rachel should be guests of honor too. After all, all four teenagers had landed lead roles in the musical.

Pulling in any of their other friends to help had seemed wrong too. All the kids had been cast in the musical. Asking the supporting players (or bit part players) to plan a big celebration for the leads was just plain tacky. So Burt had resorted to the last possible option: forcing Kurt and Finn to work at the shop all day, thus keeping them out of the house and their significant others away as well. Burt didn't like lying to Kurt – he'd left early citing a dentist's appointment, because he knew saying anything about a doctor would unduly worry Kurt.

Carole had the cake out of the oven and on the cooling rack when he came back in with the box of decorations. She went back to making the unpronounceable French entrée that would thrill Kurt and had a vegan option for Rachel as Burt unrolled the paper streamers and climbed onto a chair to tape them in loops around the cupboards. Carole's laughter filled the kitchen almost instantly.

"Oh, Burt," she giggled. "Forget the loops, sweetheart. They're all uneven. Just twist them and tape them to the tops of the cupboards."

"Streamers are supposed to be looped," he argued, quoting Kurt from his eleventh birthday party.

"Not when you also have bunting."

"I thought you made a sheet cake."

Carole laughed joyfully again and went back to dinner without commenting. With a sigh, Burt twisted the streamers until a paper rainbow decorated the cabinet tops. Within the hour, a huge banner reading "Congratulations" stretched across the kitchen window, colorful balloons floated over the table, and Burt had discovered what bunting really was. Carole applied the finishing touches to the cake decoration and took it into the laundry room to surprise the kids with later.

"Go get changed, Burt!" Carole ordered.

Six o'clock had rolled around sooner than they had realized. Finn and Kurt would be finishing up at the shop any time now and heading home. Rachel and Blaine both knew to come for dinner at six-thirty because they had been invited and accepted last night.

After Burt emerged from the bedroom in his best pair of jeans and a tucked in plaid shirt, Carole instructed him to "keep everything warm" and rushed off to change into her party clothes. Burt eyed the many covered dished around the kitchen wondering just how he was supposed to accomplish the task of keeping cooked food hot.

Carole had been acting a little frazzled for the past two hours. He'd never seen her that way before, and it unsettled him. But he did understand it. Carole had never planned a party for Kurt before, and she wanted to live up to his son's admittedly high standards. She had nothing to worry about. She had accepted Kurt for exactly who he was, and he would love her forever because of it, whether she made fashion or party planning missteps or not. But he loved her even more for caring so much about his son's preferences.

Burt shut the kitchen door when he heard a knock at the front door and peered out the window to see Blaine's Mustang in the driveway. Finn and Kurt were running late, which Carole noted with panic in her voice as she rushed into the kitchen. Maybe to see about keeping the food warm herself. Burt wished her luck.

"Blaine," Burt said, opening the door and waving the young man in. "Come in. Kurt's not back from the shop yet. I was about to turn on the game. Cardinals are playing. That's your favorite baseball team, right?"

"Yeah, definitely. I haven't been to a live game in a while, but I try to keep up on their standing in the league."

Blaine sat down on the couch while Burt occupied the armchair. He felt a little uncomfortable being alone with his boyfriend's father. The last time they'd held a conversation without anyone else present, he'd asked Burt to tell Kurt about gay sex. And then started dating Kurt two weeks later. He literally bit his tongue to keep from saying anything inappropriate.

Rachel arrived in the next ten minutes, thus saving Blaine. She wanted to go into the kitchen and help Carole, but Burt positively insisted she sit down and watch the game. She stared at Burt like he'd grown a third eyeball.

"I feel like I've gotten to know Blaine pretty well, but we don't ever get to talk, Rachel," Burt explained.

Rachel's expression softened and she perched on the couch next to Blaine. "It would be my honor to get to know you better, Mr. Hummel. Of course Finn and Kurt have told me all about how you're a wonderful, loving, accepting father." Burt shifted uncomfortably under the praise. "Also, my dads have said they would like to have a joint family dinner sometime. Neither of their fathers reacted well when they came out, and they're very impressed with your support of Kurt."

Burt did a double take. "He's my son." He looked away awkwardly as Rachel and Blaine beamed at him, and then exchanged significant glances, as if to emphasize to each other Burt Hummel's greatness. "Let's, uh, watch the game."

The door banged open five minutes later, and Kurt's raised voice reached the living room. "You are incorrigible! Why, why, _why_ would you do that? Dad is going to murder you. Murder you, Finn! As in, you are going to die tonight!"

Kurt stomped into the living room, his cheeks flushed and a stony expression on his face. He wore oil-streaked coveralls from the shop, and grease stains had smudged on his pale face over the course of the day. The hairspray had been worked free, and his askew hairstyle flopped into his eyes. He stopped dead when he saw Blaine sitting on the couch, and with a squeak, turned and fled up the stairs.

Blaine sat unmoving on the couch. His brained had short-circuited. It kept repeating over and over: _Kurt. Oil. Grease. Bent over a car engine. Kurt. Oil. Grease. Bent over a car engine._ He shifted on the couch and crossed his legs in what he hoped was not an obvious manner. He didn't even notice Finn come in in a similar state and explain to Burt, shame-faced, that he had accidentally cut a brake line while doing an oil change.

"Seriously?" Burt sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Okay, Finn. I think you're meant for front office work. You've tried, and there's no shame in admitting you don't know your way around a car."

"Yeah, just let your gay brother handle auto repairs," Kurt quipped, reappearing in the living room. He had washed the dirt off his face and put on a pair of skinny jeans and green top. He perched on the arm of the couch and blushed whenever he caught Blaine looking at him.

After Finn had cleaned up and come downstairs again, Burt loudly announced it was time for dinner. Exchanging curious expressions, the teenagers followed him into the kitchen. Blaine hung back a little, and catching the hint, so did Kurt.

"You know how you asked me to forgo the gel and wear my glasses next time we're alone?" Blaine asked. Kurt nodded, his eyes darkening. "I have a mutual request."

The countertenor's eyes widened. "You cannot be serious."

Rachel's cry of delight ended their conversation for the moment. The boyfriends dashed into the kitchen to find it decorated for a party. Burt and Carole stood beneath a "Congratulations" banner beaming proudly at the teenagers. Seeing their shocked and delighted expressions, Carole rushed over to hug each of them.

"We are so proud of all of you. When you told us yesterday you all had leading roles, we knew we had to do something special for you," she gushed.

Kurt took in the multi-colored decorations around the cabinets, window, and table. It wasn't the sort of décor he would have picked out personally. It looked like his parents hadn't decorated anything other than children's birthday parties before. But he was touched by the gesture nonetheless. Blaine, Rachel, and Finn wore huge smiles to match his own.

They took places around the table while Carole uncovered the dishes. Kurt's breath stuttered as he observed the French cuisine. He was torn between thanking Carole for the fancy spread and asking if she had something with less butter for his dad.

"So we want to hear all about your auditions," Carole said, as the dishes passed around the table. "All we got last night was a lot of excited squealing."

All eyes turned to Kurt and Rachel. Finn and Blaine had been much more subdued at dinner. Disregarding the pointed looks, the two divas launched into detailed renditions of their moment on the stage in front of the three teachers. Rachel insisted on acting out her monologue, but Carole skillfully managed to divert the performance until after dinner.

"So who is everyone else playing?" Burt asked. "I can't imagine Brittany having a speaking role."

"Actually," Blaine said, his eyes darting sidelong to take in his boyfriend's guilty expression, "Brittany and I auditioned together. We did a comedic scene from _As You Like It_, and the judges adored Brittany. She had them laughing out loud she was so good. She's playing a fairy maid to the Queen of the Fairies. It's a small part, but with several speaking lines."

"Well, what do you know," Burt mused. "The daffy cheerleader can do Shakespeare."

"Mmm, yes," Blaine replied, this time fully looking at Kurt. "Brittany can speak Elizabethan English in iambic pentameter."

The rest of the dinner guests caught on to some inside joke happening at the table. Kurt's cheeks had turned a delicate shade of pink, and he pursed his lips while casting a warning glare at Blaine. The Warbler wasn't backing down, however. With a mischievous smile, he let the others in on the joke.

"Kurt thought the same thing you did, Mr. Hummel. In fact, the night of the sleepover, after I decided to audition with Brittany, he pulled me aside to warn me against it. He said, and I quote, 'If Brittany can speak Elizabethan English in iambic pentameter, I'll eat all my Hermes scarves.'"

Rachel raised her napkin to cover her mouth, but her eyes danced with mirth. Finn grinned lopsidedly. Kurt fairly glowered at his boyfriend.

"Yes, well, I am not _actually_ going to eat my Hermes scarves."

"No, I agree. It would be terrible for your digestion," Blaine teased. Kurt rolled his eyes. "But you did imply you'd get rid of them if Brittany got a speaking part, which, I have to say, is really mean, Kurt. I think as punishment, you should donate your scarves to Goodwill."

At that, Blaine leapt up from the table and bounded for the stairs. Kurt sat at the table for a moment, shocked beyond belief, before his brain began screaming at him. With a shout, he raced after his boyfriend.

"Blaine Anderson, don't you dare touch my Hermes scarves! Do you have any idea how many hours I worked in the garage to pay for those? And your body will be found floating in the Ohio River if you so much as lay a pinky on any of this year's collection!"

Kurt burst into his bedroom and made a beeline for his small walk-in closet where he kept his scarves neatly folded in a shallow drawer. He found Blaine standing in the center of the closet, a beatific smile on his face and a rectangular red box tied with silver ribbon balanced on his palm. Kurt's panic melted instantly.

"Your name might not be in lights at the Renaissance Faire, but it will be someday. This is just the first of your many, many starring roles."

Blaine extended the arm holding the present, and Kurt accepted it while making eyes at his dapper boyfriend. He tugged on the ribbon and lifted the lid off the box. Kurt's breath caught in his throat as he stared down at the beautiful pale blue scarf. His fingertips grazed over the material.

"Blaine," he gasped, "this is vintage Hermes!"

The shorter boy nodded. "Only the best for you, Kurt." He lifted the scarf out of the box and tied it around Kurt's neck. "I'm really glad you picked an outfit that matches the scarf."

Kurt's fingers found the material at his throat again, and he played with it absently between his thumb and forefinger. "Blaine, I can't. It's too much." He started to pull off the scarf, but Blaine stopped him.

"No, please don't. I want to give you something special so you can always remember that moment when Mr. Schuester called your name."

Blaine adjusted the scarf around Kurt's neck until he deemed it perfect, and then led his boyfriend out to the full length mirror. Kurt sucked in a breath. The vintage Hermes looked at home around his neck, and the color made his eyes appear to flicker between blue and green.

"I had a reason for picking that particular color," Blaine confirmed.

Kurt closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to his boyfriend's in a soft, passionate kiss. His fingers played with the curls at the nape of Blaine's neck, and Blaine's hands cupped his cheeks lightly.

"I have something for you too," Kurt said, pulling away. "It's not here yet, but it should be by early next week. I can give you a hint, if you want."

"You just got me a present for getting the Six Flags gig. You didn't need to buy me something else." Kurt refused to dignify that with a response. "Okay, okay. Give me a hint."

"_L'amour est un oiseau rebelle_."

Blaine's eyes lit up. "Oh, that's so sweet, Kurt. I know you're not a fan of opera."

"Anything for you."

The boys were kissing again when a throat cleared in the doorway. Burt stood there looking a little awkward.

"I just came to make sure I didn't need to put Blaine's body in a trash bag and dump him in the river. So if we're all still alive, Carole says it's time for dessert."

Kurt and Blaine followed him down the stairs and back into the kitchen where Rachel, Finn, and Carole waited anxiously. Kurt flounced inside and showed off his pretty new scarf.

"Look what Blaine got me!" he cried. He danced around the table, preening for everyone. "It's vintage Hermes!"

Rachel looked expectantly at Finn, who shifted uncomfortably.

"So, uh, mom. You said something about dessert?" While Burt and Carole went to the laundry room to get the cake, Finn leered accusingly at Blaine and hissed, "Dude, you're making me look bad."

The Hummels came back into the room balancing a giant sheet cake between them. They gingerly placed it on the center of the cleared table so the teenagers could see the decorations. Instead of generic flowers and lace around the rim, Carole had created icing leaves and berries. The message read congratulations to Kurt, Finn, Blaine, and Rachel.

"Mrs. Hummel, this is looks incredible!" Rachel said. For once, she sounded genuinely humbled.

After a round of pictures involving the teenagers posing with the cake, and another with them hugging Burt and Carole for the party, they sat down to enjoy dessert. Kurt was trusted with cutting the cake, though he lamented destroying Carole's decorations to do it. Burt pulled out a half-gallon of ice cream, and Kurt was too overwhelmed by the party, cake, and Blaine's present to protest. A bottle of bubbly was found in the refrigerator, and they drank the cider from champagne flutes.

Carole refused to allow the teenagers to help her clean up, and Burt agreed with her. Guests of honor should never have to help at their own party. He sent them on their way with warnings to leave their bedroom doors halfway open.

"I do have something for you, Rachel," Blaine heard Finn say, as the tall boy led his girlfriend into his bedroom. Blaine would never mention Finn hadn't considered getting Rachel a gift until he'd suggested it yesterday.

Kurt stood in front of the mirror admiring his new scarf when Blaine walked in and eased the door halfway closed. He lingered out of Kurt's line of sight, warm happiness spreading through him just seeing Kurt appreciate the gift so much. He didn't have long to wait before Kurt noticed his presence, however.

With hands on Blaine's hips and a hungry look in his eye that foretold a heated make out session, Kurt walked him back to the bed. They crawled across the comforter, stretching out and tangling their limbs together. Kurt pressed his lips to Blaine's, and soon his tongue pressed for entrance. Blaine happily obliged, opening his mouth and welcoming the intrusion. He sucked on Kurt's tongue, catching his boyfriend unaware, and the most glorious moan escaped his throat.

"I love it when your voice goes deep," Blaine murmured, moving his lips to suck on Kurt's earlobe.

"I love you."

Blaine pulled back to gaze down into his boyfriend's eyes with a hopelessly punchdrunk look in his eyes. He didn't care their fiery passion had melted into loving embraces. He liked the slow, intense way they kissed at times. It left him free to explore and adore Kurt in equal measure.

"I love you too. Bitchy comments and all," he teased.

"I can tell," Kurt giggled. "If one crack about Brittany's intelligence got me a vintage Hermes scarf, I can't imagine what some other quips could get me. Hmm. Let's see. If Finn and Rachel last the whole summer, I'll burn my entire Alexander McQueen collection. If Quinn doesn't get a boyfriend and cheat on him by the end of summer, I'll go back to school shopping at Wal-Mart. If – "

"Stop it. You're being mean," Blaine said, but the corners of his mouth turned up in an amused smile.

"Okay. How about this one?" Kurt asked. He tightened his hold around his boyfriend's neck and looking up into shining hazel eyes. "If you don't stop scolding and kiss me this instant, I'll – "

Kurt never had to finish his threat. Blaine lowered his head and kissed Kurt soundly.

* * *

><p><strong>Translation:<strong>_ L'amour est un oiseau rebelle _"Love is a rebellious bird." This is a famous line from the aria of the opera _Carmen_.


	2. A Very Potter Outtake

**Author's Note: **In honor of the final Harry Potter movie opening at midnight, I'm posting this little one-shot. In this one, Blaine dresses up as Harry Potter, so you may want to skip reading if breaking the fourth wall upsets you. A big thank you to Horsegahl for prompting this in a review. I had a ton of fun writing it and paying homage to the Harry Potter fandom I've been part of for so many years.

* * *

><p><strong>Previously in<em> A Fine Frenzy<em> ...**

_"I've missed you," Brittany said airily, linking their arms together as they walked through the mall. "We never get to hang out anymore, and Lord Tubbington really wants those dance lessons."_

_"Aw, I've missed you too, Britt," Blaine said. "I've been really busy outside of rehearsal with Warblers practices and with Kurt. But you know what, you're right. You have to make time for your friends. Thursday, it's just you, me, and Lord Tubbington. Is that like a nickname, by the way?"_

**o o o**

_Are you seriously giving dance lessons to a cat? –Nick_

_Argh! Yes. I thought Lord Tubbington was a nickname for Brittany's crazy uncle or something. –Blaine_

* * *

><p><strong>A Fine Frenzy<strong>  
>"<strong>A Very Potter Outtake"<strong>

"We should go to the midnight show of _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part II_ in costume."

Blaine hummed an affirmative in the back of his throat. The afternoon sun beat pleasantly against his drying skin and lulled him into contended sleepiness. In the distance, he could hear young voices laughing and pool water splashing, but he had tuned out the world long ago for the comfort of the lounge chair. Brittany could suggest they try to teach Lord Tubbington how to dance again, and he would have been all for it.

He heard the girl rising from the lounge chair beside him and felt her perch on the edge of his. Her fingers twirled in his dry, poufy curls. She had been playing with his hair since the pool washed out the hair gel. He honestly didn't mind. It actually felt kind of nice to have someone touch his hair. A moment later, she slipped his glasses onto his face – he had taken out his contacts when they got into the pool after an hour of dancing around the empty house – and he reluctantly cracked open his eyes.

"Yes, Britt?"

"I said we should go to the midnight show of _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ in costume," she repeated. "With your glasses and your hair messy, you totally look like Harry Potter."

Blaine blinked. He pictured Daniel Radcliffe and considered. They were both short and black-haired, but Blaine had a darker complexion and less angular features. He could see a vague similarity, but he wasn't a ringer.

"We can go to the show tonight, but I don't know about dressing up. It took me weeks to convince Kurt we had to go the first night the movie opened, and I don't think he'll agree to wear a Gryffindor costume."

"Of course not," she agreed. "He would never dress like a Gryffindor. He's going as Draco Malfoy. I'm going to be Luna Lovegood, because she's blonde and everyone thinks she's stupid, but she actually has a really good reason for acting like she does."

"Aw, Brittany. You're not stupid."

The girl beamed and hugged him quickly. "You're so sweet, Blaine. Come on. We have get dressed and go shopping for costumes."

Blaine still didn't know about this plan, but he relented and followed her inside. He actually didn't mind the idea himself. As long as he had friends with him also dressed in character, he thought it would be fun. He was, after all, in show choir and known to perform at theme parks. It was Kurt's reaction that worried him, and he didn't want to see the movie without his boyfriend. They had both been looking forward to it since they saw the first part together in November.

The air conditioning felt frigid against his warm, bare skin. He rushed into the guest room where Brittany had told him to change and pulled on a Dalton t-shirt. He didn't bother changing out of his swim trunks. Spending all day in a swimsuit was part of what made summer so great. It took Brittany longer to pull on shorts and a tank top over her bikini, so he took the spare moments to text Kurt about the plan.

_Brittany wants to go to the movie at midnight dressed up as the characters. –Blaine_

Kurt replied back quickly with every bit as much indignation as Blaine suspected he would.

_Excuse me? I am not dressing up in a Gryffindor wizards robe. –Kurt_

_Of course not. You're going as Draco. ;) –Blaine_

He expected a torrent of texts berating him for joking about an outfit Kurt was expected to wear in public. He already had several contrite apologies composed in his head.

_Good. Because he's the only character with any fashion sense. –Kurt_

Blaine blinked stupidly at his phone, as if it might start talking and clarify the unexpected situation for him.

_You'll need help picking outfits for everyone else. I'll get the tickets. Meet me at the Goodwill in twenty minutes. –Kurt_

Blaine felt like the world had just turned upside down. Not only had Kurt agreed to go see _Harry Potter _in costume, but he had volunteered to shop at Goodwill. Brittany skipped out of her room a moment later, with her hair swinging around her shoulders and a pleasant, Luna-like smile on her lips.

"I texted Santana, and she's going to go with us too. She wants to be Bellatrix."

Blaine snorted. "Of course she does. Kurt agreed to go as Draco. We're supposed to meet him at Goodwill in twenty minutes."

_Add another ticket. Santana is coming too. –Blaine_

They headed out to Blaine's car and rolled down the windows as he pulled out of the driveway. Brittany directed him to the Goodwill she said Kurt "always" shopped at. He did a double take.

"Wait. Wait. Kurt shops at Goodwill regularly? He's never mentioned this to me before."

The girl nodded. "That's where we get our glee club costumes. The school doesn't give us enough money to buy them at regular stores. Us girls and Kurt make all our competition costumes."

He felt guilty hearing about New Directions being underfunded when he knew how much money sat unused in the Warblers' booster club account.

A few minutes later, he pulled into the Goodwill and parked next to Kurt's Navigator. He and Brittany walked in together, surprised to find Rachel and Finn had come along for the shopping trip as well.

"Harry Potter is totally awesome, dude," Finn said, by way of explanation.

"What Finn means to ask is: would it be all right if he and I came with you tonight?" Rachel interjected.

"Absolutely," Blaine said. At the same time, Brittany said, "There aren't any Jews at Hogwarts."

"You can be Hermione," Blaine added, before the diva could object and attempt to prove there were Jews at Hogwarts.

"Then you'll have to be Ron, Finn."

Rachel led the charge through Goodwill, talking loudly about which articles of castoff clothing she thought resembled the Hogwarts uniform or Muggle clothes the characters wore.

With the others gone, Blaine finally took the opportunity to greet his boyfriend and found Kurt staring at him with darkened eyes. Blaine flushed and unconsciously tugged on his loose curls. Luckily, the curls and glasses distracted Kurt from noticing he wore swim trunks and a t-shirt.

"Rachel just picked out a shirt with a giraffe on it," Blaine said.

Kurt's neck whipped around and he rushed over to pry the shirt out of Rachel's death grip. They spent an hour in the Goodwill finding clothes, and Blaine suggested they stop by the toy store in the mall to pick up some props, mainly Hogwarts ties.

Brittany's house was designated their collective dressing room. She rode with Finn and Rachel in Kurt's Navigator while Blaine and Kurt went to pick up Santana. When they walked into Brittany's room half an hour later, they found several piles of clothes scattered across the room. Kurt immediately took over coordinating the outfits.

"How did you talk Kurt into this?" Santana demanded.

Blaine shook his head. "I didn't. I suggested it, and he went for it as soon as I said he should go as Draco. How did Brittany talk you into it?"

"None of your business," she said sassily. Blaine took that mean she hadn't been talked into it either.

Luckily, New Directions excelled at last minutes preparations. They never would have gotten their costumes together so quickly if not for previous experience. Eight o'clock rolled around before they were dressed and ready to go.

Blaine had taken a shower to wash out the chlorine in his hair and styled his hair with just a dollop of gel so that his curls were messy, but he didn't look homeless. He still wore his own rectangular glasses despite Brittany's protests. He had on gray slacks and a grey vest over a white shirt with a Gryffindor tie. Finn dressed much the same as Blaine, and he had allowed Rachel to use spray on hair dye to turn him ginger. He looked more like a fire engine than a Weasley, but it would make do.

Rachel and Brittany both wore outfits like Blaine and Finn's, but with short grey school girl skirts. Rachel had knee socks and penny loafers to complete the outfit and had teased her hair into a bushy, tangled mess. The girl was nothing if not dedicated. Brittany wore mismatched sneakers with no socks because she thought that's what Luna would wear. Blaine helped her tie her Ravenclaw tie.

Santana dressed herself from Brittany's closet. Apparently Brittany had been a witch at a recent Halloween party because Santana select that as her starting point. She ripped the sleeves and added ties at the seams, and then left with Blaine's car keys to go get a corset from Kurt's closet. Blaine's eyes bugged out of his head, and he added that to his list of "must see" outfits. Her hair, however, she refused to change.

Kurt sauntered into the living room last. He had brought his own clothes and selected nothing from Goodwill. He wore gray dress pants so tight they might have been sprayed on, a long-sleeve white button up under a shiny emerald green vest, and a silver skinny tie. His hair he had styled into a pompadour.

"So we skipped the Hogwarts uniform, huh?" Santana quipped.

"Yeah, Kurt. We're supposed to be in uniform," Brittany said. "Except for Santana, who is playing an old bitch."

"Witch," Rachel corrected, then seemed to realize both described Bellatrix Lestrange and shrugged her shoulders.

Blaine jumped at the chance to defend Kurt's outfit. "I think he looks amazing."

"Of course you do, Hobbit," Santana said.

Kurt flashed his boyfriend an appreciative smile with just a hint of something lusty underneath. He made sure to sashay his hips as he walked out the door ahead of Blaine.

"Wait, guys," Brittany called. "We have to go get Lord Tubbington into his costume."

All five of her friends blinked at her disbelievingly. It was Finn who asked, "Uh, what?"

"Lord Tubbington is dressing up as Lord Voldemort. They're related, you know."

"Your cat is related to a Harry Potter character?" Rachel repeated incredulously.

"Duh. They're both nobility. Plus, you can totally see the family resemblance. Neither of them have a nose, and they both say _ngggahhhh_ all the time."

Blaine bit his lip to hold in his laughter. "I really wish you'd said something earlier, Britt. We didn't buy Lord Tubbington a ticket."

The blonde's shoulder slumped, and she hung her head sadly. Blaine wrapped her in a hug, and she rested her head on his shoulder while he rubbed her back soothingly. "I just don't know how I'm going to tell him. He's been looking forward to this for ages."

"I'll go tell him. I'll do it gently," Blaine promised.

"Thank you, Blaine. I just don't think I could face him right now."

Rachel, Finn, and Kurt watched disbelievingly as Blaine bounded up the stairs. Santana followed him up.

"I have got to see this," she said, by way of explanation. Santana walked into Brittany's room to find Blaine scratching the fat cat behind the ears. "I think only dogs like that."

"Oh. I've never had a cat. I don't know what they like doing besides killing Muggles."

Santana grinned despite herself and plopped down on the bed next to him. "You're really good to her. Everyone says how sweet she is, and they like her well enough. But you can just tell they look down on her, even the people who are supposed to love her. They might indulge her, but there's always something mean underneath, like it's a good excuse to laugh at her."

"You're good to her too, Santana."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. I've used her to get what I want. I've lied to her and convinced her it was the truth. God, it's no wonder she – Whatever. I think we've been up here long enough."

"Santana." She turned before walking out the door. "We all make mistakes, sometimes really huge ones that hurt the people we love. God knows, I've hurt Kurt just as badly if not more. It's what we do afterwards that defines what they think of us."

"Yeah, all right, Dumbledore," she teased gently. She tugged on his arm to get him off the bed, and they went downstairs together.

After a quick dinner at Breadstix, where they caused many double takes, they headed over to the theater to line up. For only nine o'clock, the line had grown ridiculously long. They ended up wrapped around theater, sitting on the cement between the side exit and parking lot.

"Sit down, Kurt," Blaine said, patting at patch of sidewalk next to him.

"Are you kidding? You all might have on secondhand clothes, but these pants are Armani."

"Then sit on my lap," he offered.

"Wanky."

Blaine ignored Santana's opinion on the seat arrangement. He extended his legs so Kurt had a place to sit. It wouldn't be the most comfortable, but it would have to do. They couldn't exactly stand up for three solid hours.

"I can't sit on your lap," Kurt said sadly. "Magic might scare away the crazier conservatives, but this is a family movie playing in Lima."

"Dude, sit on your boyfriend's lap," Finn ordered, sounding a little angry. "Anyone who has a problem with it will have to get through all of us."

Rachel, Brittany, and Santana nodded their agreement. Glancing around nervously, maybe looking for letterman jackets, Kurt lowered himself onto Blaine's lap. He offset his weight on Blaine's thighs by keeping his knees bent and feet in the parking lot. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist.

"Come a long way from prom?" Kurt joked.

"You should know just how far," he whispered suggestively.

Although Kurt joined the conversation about the lack of arts education at Hogwarts that Rachel started up, Blaine could tell he was worried about the reaction they would get for their current seating position. He hated to see his boyfriend so afraid and was about to suggest they stand together when the most bizarre thing happened.

A boy sitting on another boy's lap in public in rural, conservative Midwestern towns generally caused cries of outrage and acts of violence. Except, apparently, at _Harry Potter_ movie premiers where the opposite was true.

A young woman, maybe a twenty-two or twenty-three, did a double take as she walked past Kurt and Blaine. Then, she stopped dead in her tracks and made doe eyes at them.

"I _so_ 'ship Harry and Draco! I've written, like, all kinds of fanfiction about it!"

At the words "ship," "Harry," "Draco," and "fanfiction" a crowd of mostly girls began clustering around the speaker and giggling excitedly. Kurt and Blaine exchanged bewildered looks. They had never gotten this reaction from anyone outside of their glee clubs.

"Can we get a picture of you?" another girl asked. "I seriously can't believe anyone in this stupid cow town is brave enough to come dressed as Harry/Draco. I'm so excited right now."

"Can we friend you guys on Facebook?" someone else asked.

"Are you guys really boyfriends? Oh my God, you are, aren't you!"

To say Kurt and Blaine were confused would be an understatement. Santana's fierce gaze had most of the girls twittering like mad too; they thought she was in character as Bellatrix. Finn's slightly dopey look, Rachel's nattering nature, and Brittany's dazed looks all matched their characters remarkably well. Only Kurt and Blaine – by far the center of attention – were nothing like their characters, which was just ironic enough to put smiles on both their faces.

The girls didn't stay long enough to make the boys feel like a spectacle. They snapped their pictures for the brief time Kurt and Blaine were willing to pose and didn't push when Blaine politely declined to give out their full names for Facebook requests. Then the girl hurried on down the line to claim places.

"I'm never making fun of geeks again," Kurt said in Blaine's ear. "They might be bat shit crazy and obsessed, but where else are going to find that much acceptance from total strangers?"

Boredom came with hours of waiting in line to get into a movie theater, and the muggy July night did nothing to make the intervening hours any easier. Someone closer to the front of the line started a sing-a-long around 10:30. It was some kind of acapella melody created by singing Harry Potter character names in a round.

A chipper boy about thirteen came galloping down the line handing out parts. He skidded to a halt in front of Brittany.

"Um, your part is, uh, _Dumbledore_." The boy sang the name. "Do you need me to repeat it?"

"I think we've got it" Brittany answered sweetly.

For the next fifteen or so minutes, the line sang the quirky song. It died out eventually and was replaced with another song Blaine had never heard before. Apparently, neither had any of his friends. As the song continued, however, Blaine began to doubt this was any kind of song a band would write. It was more like a song from a musical. If the lyrics were any indication, the song was called "Harry Freakin Potter" which was maybe the best title ever.

"You have got to be kidding me," Santana said, summing up Blaine's thoughts pretty closely.

The line finally began to move at 11:30 when the doors opened for the midnight showing. Blaine, Finn, and Santana went to claim seats – they found six halfway up the theater – while Kurt, Rachel, and Brittany got snacks at the concession stand.

"I hope there are lots of commercials before the movie," Santana said loudly and sarcastically, as a theater worker passed their row.

Kurt, Rachel, and Brittany arrived with enormous sodas and balancing buckets of popcorn with fifteen minutes left to spare. When the lights went down, Blaine leaned over to Kurt and whispered in his ear during the previews.

"I'm glad we're getting to see this together. Do you remember when we saw _Part I_ together?"

"Of course I do," Kurt whispered back.

_Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part I_ would always hold a special place in his heart. They had gone into the Lima Bean together for the first time that night because the movie let out late and everywhere else was closed.

"How could I forget you all teary over Dobby's death when the lights came up?" Kurt teased.

"Just to warn you, I am going to be positively wrecked when Fred dies."

"This time, I'll be able to console you properly. In November, I was so terrified of touching you and scaring you away I barely had it in me to pat your hand comfortingly."

The familiar _Harry Potter_ overture began, and the boys cut off the conversation prematurely. They held hands around their shared Diet Coke and ate popcorn awkwardly.

"Lord Tubbington will be so mad he missed this," Brittany whispered as the title appeared on screen.


	3. Once A Warbler, A Warbler For Life

**Previously in _A Fine Frenzy_ ...**

_Kurt hadn't been in this room since he'd transferred back to McKinley. The décor was as different from McKinley's choir room as possible, and so were the memories he'd made here. It felt like entering a dream, being back inside Dalton. In this room, he had never been mocked or derided. He had never really been Kurt either. Even so, he felt secure in this safe haven._

_"Nostalgic? Because the Warblers would give anything to have you back."_

_"Nostalgic, yes. And I still have one of my uniforms, but you know I can't come back here."_

* * *

><p><strong>A Fine Frenzy<strong>  
>"<strong>Once You're A Warbler, You're A Warbler For Life"<strong>

Kurt entered his bedroom after a long day working at Hummel Tire & Lube to find his Dalton uniform lying on his bed. A small cream card bearing the Dalton crest and Warblers' emblem lay on top of the navy blazer. Curious, Kurt read the message.

_There is a reason you've kept the uniform. _

_ Dalton choir room, 5:00pm._

He had borrowed enough trigonometry notes to recognize the neat, left-slanting handwriting as belonging to Nick. Taking out his phone, he dialed Nick's number, but it went straight to voicemail. The same happened when he tried to call Blaine and Jeff. Today was the annual campus visit for all prospective freshmen, and the Warblers always closed the day with a performance. He surmised the Warblers were in rehearsal already, and Nick wanted Kurt to join their performance.

He considered for a pregnant moment, worrying his bottom lip and shifting his eyes to the clock. He would have just enough time to shower and drive to Dalton if he hurried and skipped his post-work moisturizing routine (because the damage grease and oil had on his skin could not go uncorrected). The real question was not whether he could miss moisturizing his skin, but rather if he wanted to wear the Dalton uniform and sing with the Warblers again.

A decision didn't have to be made that instant. Kurt gathered his toiletries and headed into the bathroom to wash off the grime and sweat that came with a full day of oil changes and tire rotations. Standing beneath the blessed lukewarm spray of the water, he considered his choices.

He did miss singing with the Warblers. They were not New Directions, but they were his friends nonetheless. They had been there for him and accepted him during a difficult time in his life. As much as he hated their step, snap, spin routines and imitating a ukulele, being a Warbler had been about more than that.

When he stepped out of the shower twenty minutes later, he was decided. He would show up to Dalton Academy in uniform and sing with the Warblers one last time.

**o o o**

The double doors of the Dalton choir room opened unexpectedly. Wes, standing closest to the door, had already stepped out of formation three times during rehearsal to point the family of a prospective student in the right direction. This time, however, he did a double take at the door and called a halt to "Misery."

Slowly, the harmonies faded away and the Warblers turned to see what great revelation could cause Wes to stop a rehearsal in the middle of a number. Kurt walked through the open doors in full Dalton uniform, grinning as nervously as he had on his first day back in November. The Warblers didn't clap politely as they had that day, however; they rushed off the risers and enveloped Kurt in hugs and pats on the back.

"You're going to wrinkle my uniform," Kurt protested.

"Okay, guys. Okay," Wes called. "Let's get back into formation. Kurt, while I'm glad to have you back, I'm a little confused."

In answer, Kurt handed Wes the invitation from Nick. The Head Warbler surveyed the culprit standing in his place in the second row.

"The visit-in-person performance is all about recapping our year," Nick explained. "How can we show the Warblers at their best this past year if we don't have Kurt with us? Plus, I think there's a very special song we should perform to show the incoming freshmen exactly what Dalton Academy is all about, and no one can replace Kurt for that."

"Agreed," Jeff said, "besides, I'm sick of hearing Cameron's falsetto voice screeching in my ear. I'd rather have an _actual_ countertenor sing those notes."

Cameron playfully pounced on Jeff, but agreed with him in the end. "Singing an entire set like that kills my voice, and I need to preserve it for the musical."

Wes held up his hand as Trent began to add his approval as well. "Your points have all been made, and I wholeheartedly support Kurt performing with us tonight. You remember your parts, Kurt?"

"One never quite forgets how to be a ukulele," he said flippantly, causing a ripple of laughter around the room.

"We're doing "Misery" at the moment," Wes said.

Kurt made to take his place in the front row, but hesitated when he saw Blaine. His boyfriend stood out front watching the conversation unfold with his hazel eyes locked onto Kurt. So much emotion flashed across his face, it took away Kurt's breath. He looked hopeful and devastated and enamored all at once.

"Guys, can we have a moment?" he managed to say.

No one argued with next year's Head Warbler as he took Kurt's hand and led him out of the choir room. Kurt allowed himself to be led through the mostly deserted corridors of Dalton. He grinned despite himself as they took Blaine's supposed shortcut that always made them late to Warbler performances in the senior commons.

Being back in the Dalton halls in uniform felt bizarre to Kurt, like he had stepped into a past version of himself, but his skin no longer fit properly.

Blaine shut the doors of the junior commons behind them while Kurt's eyes found the table where he'd been reading about Charlemagne one winter night. From there, he meandered around the room, tracing a path of flirtatious memories. Outside the windows, families of prospective students took walking tours of the courtyard and talked with the faculty.

"I should have kissed you that night," Blaine said, his voice wobbling slightly. "It would have been perfect."

They'd had this discussion before, and Kurt didn't think Blaine truly wanted to rehash it again, so he let the comment pass.

"Blaine, what's wrong? You look like someone just gave you a puppy and then promptly killed it in front of you."

"Kurt, that's morbid."

He wanted to make a snappy retort about Pavarotti's death inspiring a declaration of love, but Blaine looked miserable enough. Instead, he stroked Blaine's upper arm gently and ducked his head a little to meet his boyfriend's eye.

"Talk to me, Blaine."

The shorter boy took a breath. "Seeing you in the uniform made me remember all the great times we had together here and how amazing it was to see you every day. Then I realized that you're here today and only today. It felt like I was standing in the McKinley courtyard singing goodbye to you all over again." He shook his head. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I know you're never coming back to Dalton."

"Hey," Kurt whispered soothingly, "no goodbyes, remember?" He couldn't tangle his fingers in Blaine's gelled hair, so he settled for grazing the shell of his ear. "I'm sorry, Blaine. I didn't think about what me being back here in uniform would mean for you."

"Don't apologize, Kurt. I'm just being stupid."

"No, you're not. You're being sweet and romantic, which I love."

"I guess this is what's meant by 'you can never go home again'."

Kurt smiled sadly, took Blaine's hand, and led him slowly back to the choir room. The lead soloist had composed himself by then and easily took his place at the front of the group. Kurt stepped into position and practiced old parts he hadn't sang since Sectionals and Regionals.

**o o o**

"There is a very special guest with the Warblers tonight," Wes said, addressing the audience full of incoming freshmen and their families. "Nothing says more about what being a Warbler is all about than his appearance here tonight and the song he'll be singing."

Behind him, the Warblers stood out of the spotlight and moved into position for their next song. They had already performed "Misery" and "Silly Love Songs." They would close the set with "Teenage Dream," as per Kurt's request during practice. If this was his concluding performance with the Warblers, he wanted to make it as memorable as his introduction.

"Kurt Hummel transferred to Dalton Academy briefly last year. We were sorry to see him leave Dalton, but are thrilled to have him here tonight." Wes turned to the boy who had just stepped into the spotlight. "Kurt, you're welcome back anytime. Once you're a Warbler, you're a Warbler for life."

The Warblers began the backing harmony on Wes's count, and Kurt sang the opening lines of the duet.


	4. Chanel No 5

**Previously in_ A Fine Frenzy_ ...**

_Blaine widened his eyes, trying to tell Kurt something wordlessly, but the taller boy was too overjoyed to see him after too many days apart. Kurt closed the last three steps in a bound and threw his arms around Blaine's neck. His lips were pressed against his boyfriend's before he could register Blaine wasn't hugging him back._

_A clearing throat reminded Kurt that they were in public in Ohio. He mentally kicked himself and turned to the intruder with his fiercest face firmly in place. It shattered the instant he registered that Blaine's father stood just feet away. Anger put a quiver in Joel Anderson's firmly set mouth, and his eyes – hazel, like his son's – bored into Kurt accusingly._

**o o o**

_Carole's arms tightened instinctively around Kurt, as if holding him tighter could solve any problem in the world. He felt safe and loved, but he also couldn't breathe properly. "Mom, please," he whined, shimmying out of her grasp_.

* * *

><p><strong>A Fine Frenzy<strong>  
>"<strong>Chanel No. 5"<strong>

Kurt woke with a jolt in the middle of the night. The moonlight fell across his body wrong. He sat up in the strange bed, for a moment disoriented and unsure of where he'd fallen asleep, before he remembered he was in a guest room at Nick's house.

A look to his left recalled memories from earlier that night. Blaine lay sleeping beside him. He wore a peaceful smile in sleep, as if the troubles of yesterday had never afflicted him. Kurt had done all he could to comfort his boyfriend. Blaine had fallen asleep sated and distracted.

Kurt would have dwelt on his boyfriend's beautiful form longer, but the memory that had startled him from sleep pressed down on him with an uncomfortable weight. He slipped from the bed and seized discarded clothes off the floor. Only after he'd eased the door shut behind him did he realize the hodge-podge he'd selected in the dark. He had his own pants on, but Blaine's shirt and shoes. He must look ridiculous. The colors and fabrics didn't go together at all.

He didn't care. He sank down onto the grass wet with dew, drew his knees to his chin, and buried his face as the wracking sobs overtook him.

When Blaine woke three hours later, he reached out for the warmth of Kurt's body and started at finding nothing but cold sheets. He pushed himself into a sitting position and listened for the sound of the sink or shower from the bathroom. Nothing.

_Where are you? I'm lonely without you here. –Blaine_

A reply came a few minutes later.

_Outside. I needed air. –Kurt_

Blaine frowned at the reply. He had hoped that his first night sleeping next to Kurt would end with waking up together. He tugged on his pants and went in search of his shirt, but only found Kurt's purple button down. It was too tight for him, but he managed to work the buttons closed. Struggling into Kurt's heeled boots took more time. As he did up the laces, Blaine realized something must be very wrong if Kurt left the bedroom without an immaculate outfit. He quickly tied a knot in the string and bolted downstairs.

Walking across the lawn in heeled boots proved much harder than Blaine ever imagined. Kurt glided in these boots; Blaine thought himself lucky he didn't sprain an ankle. When he sank down onto the grass beside his boyfriend, Kurt immediately buried his face in Blaine's shoulder.

"Sssh. Kurt. Tell me what's going on."

The countertenor sniffled and pulled away slightly to dab at his eyes. "Yesterday, after – after I kissed you, I was so upset at how stupid and reckless I'd been." Blaine opened his mouth to protest, but Kurt gently cut him off. "Finn found me, and then my dad and Carole. After I told them what happened, Carole gave me a hug. She got a little too … well, motherly. And I – I – I called her Mom."

He breathed the last line as if saying the word was shameful. Blaine's heart constricted in his chest, and he ran his fingers gently through Kurt's hair, still tousled from sleep and their activities before. Kurt dropped his head onto his shoulder again.

"I didn't realize what I'd said then. But last night, when I did, I – I wasn't sorry. I didn't – I _don't _want to take it back. I feel like I've betrayed her memory."

The tears started flowing again, and Blaine rubbed gentle circles on Kurt's back.

"I don't know what to say, Kurt. Except that your mother must have been an extraordinary woman to raise a son like you. From what your dad's told me, you were never afraid to be yourself, but he wasn't always so accepting."

Kurt nodded. "She never acted like anything was wrong with me. She never tried to make me play with toy cars or Transformers. Not even when I went through my 'fairy princess' phase and ran around the house with a pink, glittery star wand."

Blaine couldn't fight the twitch of his lips. Kurt felt it against his temple and laughed once.

"I didn't know your mom, but I think such a loving, accepting woman wouldn't want you to suppress what you feel, Kurt."

Kurt brushed away the errant tears on his cheeks and took a shuddering breath to steady himself. "Can you drive me home now? I need to talk to Carole."

Blaine nodded and helped Kurt up off the grass. The countertenor stared hard at his boyfriend, then glanced down and laughed. The normally shorter boy rolled his eyes and led the way to his car. He considered asking Kurt if they could change clothes. The buttons on Kurt's designer shirt looked dangerously close to popping off, but if Kurt didn't care about his clothes, then this was too important to delay.

"Tell Mr. Schuester I'll be late for rehearsal," Kurt requested at the Hummel-Hudson's front door.

Blaine nodded and pulled his boyfriend into a hug. "Text me if you aren't coming. Or if you want me to come pick you up. Or if – "

Kurt cut him off with a sweet kiss. "Don't worry about me, Blaine. I'm safe with Carole – heart and mind."

Blaine knew that, of course. He drove off with a wave and a promise from Kurt that they would talk later.

Kurt entered the quiet house. His dad had already gone to the shop for the day, and Finn had left for rehearsal. He knew Tuesday was one of Carole's days off, so she would be home. He found his stepmother in the kitchen, humming along to a Dusty Springfield song while doing the morning dishes.

"Carole?" he asked quietly.

Seeing his red-rimmed eyes, her fingers instantly released the dish into the soapy water, and she grabbed a towel to dry off her hands. Kurt came all the way into the kitchen and perched tentatively near the island.

"How are you? How is Blaine?"

He smiled at her equal concern, but he didn't know how to answer. "Blaine has accepted he can't change his father's attitude by pushing the issue. He's hurt, but he's strong. And I'm – " His voice broke, and he couldn't go on.

"Kurt, honey, do you want to talk about what happened? You were so upset yesterday. Seeing that kind of hate from Blaine's father …. It was difficult for me to stomach, and I grew up around men exactly like him."

Carole had never talked before about this topic. Kurt had no idea if her parents had been progressive and ahead of their time or if she had struggled like his dad to accept homosexuality. He was interested in hearing her story, but at another time.

"I do want to talk about yesterday, but not about Mr. Anderson. There's something I said yesterday."

She gently laid the towel down on the countertop and approached her stepson with slow, measured steps. She stopped short of taking his hand, but left her unclasped hands on the white counter inches from his.

"I didn't know if you'd realized what you'd said. I don't think Finn or Burt registered it either, they were so angry."

Kurt tried to speak, but tears clogged in his throat. He turned away and blinked rapidly, but he couldn't stop them from spilling from his eyes.

"Oh, Kurt," Carole breathed. She sounded close to tears herself. "Whatever you call me, I'll never take her place in your heart, and I wouldn't want to either."

A strangled sob escaped his throat, and his face crumpled. Carole understood so well what thoughts played through his mind. He cried for his late mother and for the compassion of the woman he had come to think of as family.

"Will you come with me, Kurt?"

He obliged and followed her upstairs to the master bedroom. Kurt rarely came into this room. It was his dad and stepmom's personal space, and entering uninvited felt wrong to him. The room bore her touch in the sage paint and throw pillows, but his dad had left his mark too in smaller ways. She walked over to the dresser in the corner and pulled out the third drawer.

Kurt gasped as the familiar scent wafted out of the empty drawer and overwhelmed him with memories. The perfume gave him a heady rush, and he felt unsteady on his feet.

"Not long after your dad and I first started seeing each other, I came over alone one day to pick out a shirt for him to wear to a friend's dinner party. You were in his room laying on the floor with all the drawers of this dresser opened. When I asked Burt about it, I think he almost cried. That's the first time we talked about Christopher and Elizabeth."

Kurt sucked in a shaky breath. "You – you don't use the dresser?"

"No, I don't. Burt told me I could, but … I couldn't do that to you. I couldn't take away the one thing that comforts you when you miss her."

Kurt thought about his dad sitting in Christopher's armchair. It had taken Kurt and Carole longer to come to this moment, but it was no different than the understanding Burt and Finn had come to over a year ago.

"Kurt, I would be honored to have you call me Mom. But if you're not comfortable with that, you call me Carole for as long as you want to. A name doesn't change how I feel about you. I think of you as my son, Kurt, and I love you."

He moved the two feet forward to wrap his arms around her. The scent of perfume was stronger closer to the dresser. It reminded him of dancing around the living room singing Disney songs and cuddling on the couch to watch _The Sound of Music_ and endless affection. It reminded him of love and acceptance.

"I love you too." He clung to her tightly for several moments before pulling away and brushing the remainder of the tears off his cheeks. "The sweaters you keep on the shelf in the walk-in closet should really be in a drawer, and scarves are not meant to hang on a rack. No matter how they're displayed in the store, they should be folded. I'll help you move them."

Carole watched with parted lips and misty eyes as Kurt made three trips to the closet, slowly emptying the shelves she had chosen to use and filling up the dresser drawers. His hand trembled as he pushed closed the bottom drawer.

"You are an extraordinary young man, Kurt," she whispered. The tears had started falling down her cheeks.

"Says the woman who gave up her honeymoon for me." He tried to make it a joke, but it came out heavy with sincerity.

They sat on the end of the bed staring at the dresser for a long time and said nothing.

"I should go to rehearsal," Kurt said at last. "Mr. Schue wanted to work on some of my songs today."

"Are you sure you're up for it, sweetheart?" she asked. "If you don't feel like it, I'll call Mr. Schuester and tell him you're staying home. I could use some help with the cookies for the bake sale at work. Or you could stay in your room, if you'd rather watch musicals alone."

"Would you please?" he asked quietly. "I – I think I'd like to stay here after all. There's a new cookie recipe I want to try. Blaine told me about a cookie his mom makes, but he doesn't know what it's called. I thought I'd try to find it in a recipe book."

"Well, then it's settled. You're baking with me. I'll show you the secret cookie recipes passed down by my grandma. If there's a cookie, she had a recipe for it. I'm sure we can find Blaine's favorite in there somewhere and have a little comfort ready for him when he comes over for dinner."

Kurt grinned widely. "Thank you."

Carole paused only for a beat to grin back before she took his hand and led him downstairs to the kitchen. She pulled an ancient, battered box from a high cupboard and began flipping through the cards filled with faded, delicate handwriting.

"Now what kind of cookie does Blaine's mom make?"

"It's a chocolate cookie with a lot of cinnamon in it. Blaine loves cinnamon."

Finn and Blaine returned from rehearsal a few hours later. Blaine had filled Finn in on what happened, and the tall boy was genuinely surprised that he'd missed Kurt calling his mom "Mom." They approached the kitchen cautiously, hearing voices coming from that direction. Cooling racks of cookies filled every inch of counter space and spilled over onto the table as well. Carole and Kurt moved easily around each other, pouring ingredients into bowls and mixing while chatting amiably.

" … and then he's dragged into Hell," Kurt concluded.

"I think we should all go see it. I'll talk to Burt about getting tickets for us," Carole returned.

Kurt laughed lightly. "Oh, dad will _love_ that idea."

"What idea?"

Finn and Blaine started, neither having heard Burt enter the house behind them. He said a quick hello to the teenagers and pecked Carole on the lips before repeating his question.

"Seeing _Carmen_ at OSU before it's over. Blaine and I saw it already, and I was really surprised at how much I liked it considering it's an opera."

"Opera?" Burt and Finn scoffed in unison.

"Well, Mom thinks it's a good idea," Kurt defended. "Don't you?" Carole nodded emphatically.

Burt did a double take. He stared at Kurt with a mixture of disbelief, pride, and love in his face. It was Finn who broke the lingering silence.

"So … does this mean I can finally start calling Burt 'Dad' because I've been waiting, like, a really long time for that."

Now Burt swiveled his head in the opposite direction to stare at Finn. He wore a look of puzzlement on his face, as if to ask how he was so lucky to have these two teenagers as sons when the rest of the world had to deal with mouthy, irresponsible brats.

"Yes, Finn," Kurt said, grinning. "That's exactly what it means."

"Oh, cool. Can I have a cookie?"

Laughter broke out among the Hudson-Hummel family. Blaine stood back and let his boyfriend's family bond. He was about to say a quick good-bye and make an exit when Burt clapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him into the center of the family.

"Those," Burt said, pointing to a plate of chocolate cookies, "look like the disgusting cookies you were raving about last week."

Blaine's face lit up. The platter of Cinnamon-Spiced Hot Chocolate cookies made its way around the kitchen with each of the Hudson-Hummels tentatively biting into the cookie while Blaine shoved a whole one into his mouth. Kurt shook his head at his boyfriend's exaggerated eye roll and moans of delight.

"You are such a boy," Kurt sighed.

"I am, but you love me," Blaine said thickly around a mouthful of cookie.

Burt and Finn had decided the Cinnamon-Spiced Hot Chocolate cookies were not disgusting after all. Even Carole had gone for seconds, though she ate hers with more dignity than her son and husband.

"I do." Kurt smiled tenderly at his entire family. "I love you all."


	5. Quirt

**Previously in _A Fine Frenzy_ ...**

_A text message arriving just as they pulled into the parking lot roused both boys. It had come to Kurt's phone._

We just bought our tickets. Are you here yet? –Quinn

_Over the past week, Quinn had incorporated herself into the small group of Starlings who were dating Warblers. Ros, Honor, and Pen had taken Quinn in as one of their own since she was dating Nick and in a glee club. She had stayed the night with them and come to see the Warblers final performance._

Just pulled in. Meet us at the gate in fifteen. –Kurt

_When Kurt looked up, he saw his brother frowning slightly. He quickly told Burt and Carole about the plan before they climbed out of the car and stretched their legs. He skipped forward to walk beside Finn with their parents a few steps back._

_"Finn," he said slowly, "you look kind of upset."_

_The tall boy said nothing for awhile. "When did you and Quinn become such good friends?"_

_"We aren't. We just happen to have something in common now: Warbler boyfriends. You're upset that I'm talking to Quinn?"_

_Finn shrugged. "Only if she still believes what she used to about gay people."_

_"I don't think she does. I don't know if I'm responsible for that or not, but I think her attitude has changed entirely." He felt a blush creeping into his cheeks thinking about last Wednesday night. Quinn probably thought he was some kind of sex-crazed wanton, but she hadn't seemed any more awkward around him than she did Santana or Brittany._

* * *

><p><strong>A Fine Frenzy<strong>  
>"<strong>Quirt"<strong>

"Are we friends?"

The question hung in the air unanswered for a long moment while Leona Lewis's voice played from the speakers. Kurt kept his eyes on the road and hands on the wheel waiting for Quinn's response to what he admitted was a rather loaded question.

Their interaction in the past had been limited mostly to glee club, save the one notable instance when Quinn convinced him to give Rachel a makeover. That had hardly been a bonding moment since they both had selfish motivations.

They had spent a lot of time together this summer, however, both having boyfriends in the Warblers. Kurt had lost track of the number of times they'd carpooled to Westerville for Warbler performances or Dalton events or, like today, shopping trips with the Starlings. Whole days passed sometimes when they saw no one from McKinley except each other.

"I've considered you my friend for a long time," she replied. "You were there for me when I was pregnant, and I was there for you when your dad had a heart attack. Doesn't that make us friends?"

"Can I be honest? No, I don't think so. I wasn't really there for you. I sang with you, and I didn't judge you, but we never talked about it. And you weren't really there for me. You were there for my dad. Not that I'm belittling that, because I did appreciate it even if I didn't always show it."

Quinn's brow furrowed, but she couldn't refute the sentiment. "Same. About the appreciation and not showing it, I mean. And you're right, appreciation doesn't make a friend. So back to the original question: are we friends?"

They sat in silence for another few moments while Adele replaced Leona Lewis on the radio and pondered the way their relationship had evolved over the summer. They acted friendlier towards each other, but all their interactions stemmed from their boyfriends' friendship.

"I don't know. That's why I asked you. I feel like we're talking in circles."

"That's because we are."

They took a moment to enjoy the humor with silent grins.

"Maybe we should start with another question. Why haven't we been friends before now?" Quinn inquired.

Kurt's brow arched delicately. "You're kidding, right?"

"No. I really want to know. Why didn't you want to be my friend before?"

He took his eyes off the road to cast a calculating stare in her direction. "Maybe because I didn't want a sermon about hellfire and damnation and the wickedness of my ways?"

Quinn's lips parted in surprise, and she returned his withering glare with wide-eyed shock. "When have I ever done anything to make you think I would do that?"

He pursed his lips because she hadn't made any overt remarks like others in glee club, but the cross hanging around her neck had silently taunted him for years.

"But you do think it's wrong, being gay."

It wasn't a question, but Quinn treated it as one.

"I used to, yes. But then I got to know you, and I realized being gay can't be wrong because being short or having brown eyes or blonde hair or freckles can't be wrong."

Now Kurt's mouth formed the surprised O. "How long have you felt this way?"

She considered before answering. "Since the first time I saw Karofsky locker check you. I wish I'd told you then, but …."

"What, Quinn?"

"I felt like I couldn't be your friend unless you invited me to belong to your clique."

The irony was not lost on Quinn that only a few weeks ago, she had lectured Tina, Mike, and Artie about this very subject. She hated that she always had to initiate friendships, and yet here was admitting she waited for Kurt to make the first move.

Kurt sat in baffled silence for several long minutes. "I thought the same thing about you."

She released an unexpected peal of laughter. "Oh my God, Kurt. Do you have any idea how ridiculous this is? We have so much in common." She started ticking off similarities on her fingers. "We're honors students, we're underappreciated in glee club, we're a little standoffish and opinionated, and we know what it's like to be a social outcast."

The last item said she more softly and solemnly. Kurt had been nodding along the whole time, but paused at the end.

"I know," she added. She hesitated before reaching over and placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know it's different for you. No one ever threatened to kill me, and I made a choice – an impaired choice, but a choice nonetheless. I can empathize, though, Kurt, maybe better than anyone else you know except Blaine."

He nodded once and let the silence fall between them again. Trapped within their own thoughts, they allowed the singers on the radio to transition twice before speaking again. Kurt turned into the Westerville mall and parked, but left the car idling.

"I think this means we're friends," he said at last.

She nodded and smiled. "Definitely. I expect texts and gossipy phone calls."

"And shopping dates and sing-alongs."

They climbed out of the Navigator, and Kurt placed Quinn's hand in the crook of his arm. She couldn't hide her smile. She had seen him walking like this so often with Mercedes and Tina. It sealed their conversation with a positive finality.

Finally, after two years in the same glee club and sympathizing from a distance, Quinn Fabray and Kurt Hummel had become true friends.


	6. Over the River and Through the Woods

**Author's Note: **This one-shot comes from a PM prompt by Sophie Loves Music and Writtin. She asked for a double date with Klaine and Nuinn where Blaine and Nick embarrass themselves. I can't even tell you how much fun I had with this one. I wrote this directly after I finished "Quirt" so consider this one an extension of the new Kurt/Quinn friendship.

* * *

><p>Previously in <strong><em>A Fine Frenzy: Outtakes<em>** ...

_"I think this means we're friends," he said at last._

_She nodded and smiled. "Definitely. I expect texts and gossipy phone calls."_

_"And shopping dates and sing-alongs."_

_They climbed out of the Navigator, and Kurt placed Quinn's hand in the crook of his arm. She couldn't hide her smile. She had seen him walking like this so often with Mercedes and Tina. It sealed their conversation with a positive finality._

_Finally, after two years in the same glee club and sympathizing from a distance, Quinn Fabray and Kurt Hummel had become true friends._

* * *

><p><strong>A Fine Frenzy<strong>  
>"<strong>Over the River and Through the Woods"<strong>

When Blaine and Nick suggested a double date, Kurt and Quinn agreed a little hesitantly. They interacted on a daily basis, but until very recently didn't mingle in the same social circle. But their boyfriends had been best friends for years, and the double date was clearly important to them. They began to have doubts, however, when Blaine and Nick scheduled the date for 10pm Thursday night at Dalton.

"Please tell me you know what we're doing."

Kurt shook his head. "Blaine said it had to be a secret. I only know what you know, and that was to dress for an evening outdoors."

Night had fallen when Kurt pulled his Navigator into the Dalton Academy parking lot. The digital numbers on the dash told him it was 9:58. Illuminated lamps along the walkways tinged the dark blue night with orange hues. Crickets in the flowerbeds chirped continuously, and the humidity of the day had only just begun to dissipate.

Not knowing what to expect on the date, Quinn had chosen to dress for all occasions. Her dress and flats could be fancied up with a pashmina she'd left in Kurt's car or kept casual. Kurt had not followed the same line of thinking. His tight white pants, knee-high riding boots, fire engine red military jacket, and black top hat sent a clear message: surprises would be met by passive-aggressive fashion choices.

Blaine and Nick waited by the garden trellises as arranged. In the dim light cast up by the floodlights, Kurt could see they had dressed down for their double date. He took in Blaine's black skinny jeans and striped V-neck with a frown. More disconcerting than the casual outfit, however, was the item hanging from his fist: an industrial flashlight. Nick had one as well.

"You look lovely," Nick told Quinn, and greeted her with a kiss.

"Wow," Blaine said, his eyes traveling up and down Kurt's body. "You look …"

"Like you're about to ride a horse," Nick interjected. Blaine punched him hard in the arm, and he danced away, rubbing at the tender spot. Quinn lifted an eyebrow, as if to say he deserved it.

"… incredible," Blaine finished. Kurt preened, which only made his boyfriend smile more. They kissed overly long, but Nick didn't dare complain for fear of getting hit again, and Quinn didn't seem to mind at all.

"Okay, so" Nick said, once the kiss had ended. "There is a Dalton Academy tradition that Blaine and I wanted to do with the two of you. There's a bridge over a brook between the Dalton and Crawford grounds. Legend goes that any couple that kisses on the bridge and carves their names into the wood will last forever."

Quinn's hand went to her chest, and she released a sweet cooing sound that sent a flush to Nick's cheeks. He buried his hands in his pockets and kicked at the loose dirt around the flowerbeds. His girlfriend twined her arm with his and laid her head on his shoulder.

"But why are we doing it at night?" she asked. "Is that part of the tradition?"

"No," Kurt answered. He stared at his boyfriend with a mixture of affection and disbelief on his face. "No, we're doing it in the dead of night because it's specifically banned. Any Dalton boy or Crawford girl caught doing it is expelled."

"Why? It sounds so sweet."

"There was an … incident once," Nick mumbled. Kurt opened his mouth to speak, but Nick overrode him. "No one actually knows the real story. All the rumors are probably totally overblown."

Neither Kurt nor Quinn looked entirely convinced this was a good idea anymore, however romantic it sounded. Blaine gently tugged on Kurt's hand to get his attention.

"It's something I never thought I would get the chance to do," he stated, looking up at Kurt through his lashes.

Kurt felt his heart melt. He, too, had experienced those lonely moments when he despaired of ever having what other teenagers could. Then he'd met Blaine, and a world of possibilities had opened to him. Quinn agreed only too eagerly after Kurt relented.

The couples traipsed through the Dalton gardens hand-in-hand. They didn't need the flashlights just yet and were content to walk in semi-darkness while fireflies lit up all around them. At the far edge of the garden, they passed through a hedge of shrubs growing around a wrought iron fence, and the cobblestone walkway ended abruptly.

Nick and Blaine flipped on the flashlights and revealed a wending dirt path leading down a sparsely wooded hill towards the sound of trickling water. Quinn and Kurt struggled to keep their footing in dress shoes. The manicured lawn between trees gradually gave way to wilder undergrowth, and the trees here grew closer together.

"How much farther?" Kurt asked, irritation lacing his voice as the heel of his boot squelched in a muddy patch.

"Almost there," Nick called over his shoulder.

Within five minutes, they came to a rocky sandbank of a babbling brook. At some point, the brook must have been a wider, deeper stream because a whitewashed wooden bridge spanned the distance between banks. Upon closer inspection, carvings beneath the latest coat of paint could be seen still. Hearts surrounded some pairs, but most had been joined by a simple plus sign. A new trend had begun since the last painting. Portmanteau couple names exposed the natural light brown of the wood.

Nick grabbed Quinn's hand and sprinted onto the bridge. He stopped at the apex and turned to his girlfriend with a joyfully smile.

"So what do you think about our couple name? Quick is kind of the perfect combination of our names."

Quinn flinched and felt grateful Nick couldn't see it in the dim lighting. She deflected the suggestion without actually mentioning Puck. "New Directions already gave us a name. It's kind of a tradition for us."

"Oh. What is it?"

"Nuinn."

With the flashlight directed away from his face, Quinn couldn't see his reaction, but from his silence she guessed he wasn't entirely happy. He might like it better if he knew Quick had been used before. He pulled a Swiss Army knife from his pocket, however, and began carving the name onto the bridge.

After their couple name had been etched deep into the banister, Nick stood up straight and pocketed the knife. He wrapped one arm around her waist and tangled the other in her hair, then kissed her soundly. They both breathed laboriously when they pulled away. Quinn tried to move in for another kiss, but Nick danced away.

"Two kisses on the bridge spells disaster!" he protested.

Quinn laughed when he raced off the bridge, pulling her along behind him. With both feet firmly on solid ground, he proceeded to kiss her again. Kurt and Blaine shook their heads, both smiling, and took their turn on the bridge.

"So what's our couple name?" Blaine asked. "Something involving the erroneous surname Warbler?"

Kurt chuckled lightly. "For your information, our couple name is Klaine."

"Klaine." Blaine let the name roll off his tongue. "I like it."

"But I don't want to carve it onto the bridge." In the thin halo from the flashlight, Kurt saw the hurt on his boyfriend's face and rushed to explain. "Klaine could be a combination of dozens of names. I want everyone to know _we_ carved our names here."

"Two boys, you mean," Blaine said, a slow smile forming.

"I mean _Kurt and Blaine_."

Grinning like mad now, Blaine used his pocket knife to carve "Kurt +" and handed over the knife for Kurt to complete the brand with "Blaine" and a heart around their names. They kissed long and passionately without ever breaking apart. Blaine sensed Kurt about to pull away and tightened his hold on the back of his boyfriend's neck. The taller boy stumbled backwards two steps and hit the railing. His head tipped backwards from impact, thus breaking the kiss and sending his top hat tumbling into the brook.

Kurt stared at his boyfriend wide-eyed for a beat before deciding which shock to comment on – the intensity of the kiss or his lost hat. "My hat!"

Blaine watched helplessly as Kurt snatch the flashlight and dashed off the bridge, his riding boots thundering on the wood. Nick and Quinn broke apart on the shore and stared after Kurt. The babbling brook didn't flow very quickly, but already Kurt had put a hundred feet between the bridge and himself. The flashlight beam darted frantically over the water.

"I'm going to go help him find his hat," Nick said, releasing Quinn.

Nick and Blaine charged down the muddy bank following Kurt's flashlight.

"Kurt!" Blaine called out. "Kurt, wait for us! We'll get your hat!"

Quinn hovered in place for a moment before deciding she'd rather not linger alone in the woods at night without a flashlight and began running after them. Her dress shoes made it impossible to catch up, but she kept her eyes trained on the moving flashlights.

Up ahead, Kurt spotted his top hat snagged in a forked tangle of tree roots long ago exposed by erosion. Sighing in relief, he sidestepped down the bank trying to find purchase, but his riding boots slipped ineffectually on the mud. He nearly fell on his ass, but a pair of strong arms around his waist steadied him at the last moment. He exhaled deeply and relaxed against Blaine's solid presence.

"How about you let someone with tread on their shoes get your hat?" Blaine chuckled in his ear.

Kurt stood back and allowed his boyfriend to rescue his hat from the water. He held the flashlight high in a beam stretching down the bank, over the tree roots, and onto the hat so Blaine had a well-lit path to traverse. All seemed to go well until Blaine stepped onto the first gnarled tree root.

The rotted wood gave way with a crack like a gunshot and sent Blaine lunging forward. Nick sprang into action immediately, launching himself at Blaine to stop his friend from landing head first in the riverbed. His foot slipped on the muddy grass, however, and the flashlight went flying. It bounced off a tree root, sputtered, and died in the water.

Meanwhile, Kurt had also vaulted into action to save his boyfriend. He dropped the flashlight, which pointed across the brook, thus plunging Nick and Blaine into total darkness. Blaine's hands scrambled in front of himself for anything to hold onto, but he found only air. The added weight of Nick on his back sent the Warblers toppling into the brook.

Kurt managed to seize a handful of Nick's shirt, but the grip of one hand was not strong enough to counterbalance the falling boys. Their momentum lifted Kurt off his feet and into the water with them. On the way down, Kurt shrieked a note only a soprano could hit before landing on his back in an inch of water and three inches of mud. His next piercing cry was less surprise and more fury.

Quinn arrived on the scene in time to pick up Kurt's discarded flashlight and shine it on the babbling brook where all three boys had landed sprawled out. Nick lay on his back, legs and arms flailing as he tried to work himself free of the suctioning mud. Blaine had managed to get to his feet and tried to help Kurt stand up, but his boyfriend swatted his hands away.

"Don't touch me!" Kurt snarled. "You being handsy got us into this mess."

Blaine backed away while Kurt twisted around to take in the state of his white pants. His entire body had been covered with a layer of mud. He rounded on Blaine again, eyes flashing dangerously.

"I hate you."

"Kurt, don't say that," Blaine whimpered. "That's not funny."

While Kurt crawled up the bank and stomped off into the woods with Blaine trailing after him, Nick extricated himself from the mud and trudged up the incline. He gestured down at his ruined clothes sheepishly.

"So this is the most embarrassed I've ever been on a date."

"Lucky for you, I think it's kind of cute." She leaned forward, carefully to keep her dress away from his soiled clothes, and pressed her lips to his.

"Oh yeah?" he teased.

Before Quinn knew what was happening, he had pulled her flush against his body, thus smearing mud all over her dress. She shouted in wordless outrage and shoved at his shoulder. Nick was short, but strong, and held her close in spite of her half-hearted attempts to gain her freedom. He captured her lips and smiled into the kiss.

"Don't get cocky or I'll shove you back into the brook," she mumbled against his lips.

While Nick and Quinn kissed beside the brook under the pale moon, Blaine chased after Kurt through the deep dark of the woods.

"Kurt, come back!" he called. "Please stop."

Up ahead, Kurt stopped dead in his tracks, not because Blaine had asked him to, but because he'd lost his way. He couldn't remember if they'd climbed up the same bank or opposite bank. In the back of his mind, he knew none of this was Blaine's fault. His mood was really frustration at having a brand new, very expensive, outfit ruined.

Blaine caught up with him and stood breathing heavily a few feet away. When he started talking, he sounded hurt and desperate and generally close to tears. His voice melted Kurt's heart and made him regret his harsh words.

"I'm really sorry, Kurt. I didn't mean for this to happen. I just – I wanted to do the kissing bridge tradition with you because I love you, and I want us to be happy forever. I know it's just a stupid myth, but …. Wouldn't it be amazing if twenty years from now, we come back for a reunion together and see our names there and get to think maybe tonight had something to do with our happiness?"

Kurt swore his heart stopped beating for a minute. He turned slowly, eyes wide and breath catching in his chest because Kurt had talked about going to college together, but Blaine was talking about a _life_ together. Without warning, he lunged at his boyfriend and crushed their lips together.

"I love you, you clueless, uncoordinated, inappropriate, _amazing_ man."

This close together, Kurt could see Blaine's eyes darting around his face and the look of wonderment there. He didn't realize what he'd said to elicit such an extreme mood change. It only made Kurt love him that much more.

"Kurt, what – "

"Take me to a shower," he interrupted. "I can't gush romantically at you when we're both covered in slime."

Nick and Quinn picked that moment to join them with the flashlight. From the state of her clothes, Quinn had either fallen in a mud patch or been cuddled by a muddy boyfriend. She shook her head in mock dismay.

"What are we going to do with these boys?" she asked Kurt.

Normally, he would have joined in with the teasing, but the squelching in his boots triggered his one-track mind. "Which way to the nearest shower?" he demanded.

Blaine and Nick turned around in a full circle with matching worried looks. They had strayed far from the path and the brook. With each passing beat of silence, Kurt and Quinn's tolerant smiles faded a bit more.

"Uh, this is really embarrassing," Blaine started.

Nick finished the thought, "But we're definitely lost."

With a growled out, "Oh my God," Kurt sank onto the ground heedless of the dirt. His pants had already been ruined. What was a little more filth?

"But don't worry," Blaine added hurriedly. "When the sun comes up – " Quinn made a derisive noise and sat down next to Kurt. " – we'll be able to find out way back to Dalton."

The two Warblers shifted their weight uncomfortably and exchanged guilty glances. They definitely could have planned this better. On the ground, Quinn linked her arm with Kurt's and sighed deeply.

"We'll think this is funny one day," she said wearily.

Kurt's eyes darted up to his boyfriend still standing over him, and a ghost of a smile passed over his lips. "Maybe in twenty years."


	7. Warblers Are Particularly Good Finders

**Author's Note: **I don't know how funny this one is. It's at least mildly amusing. Also, skip this one if references to AVPM/S in Glee stories upset you.

* * *

><p><strong>Previously in <em>A Fine Frenzy<em> ...**

_They loitered around the Duval's manor, talking about the Warblers' weekend at King's Island (including a truly epic scavenger hunt, the winner of which remained undecided, and hotel hide-and-seek) for about an hour until Blaine came by to pick up Kurt._

* * *

><p><strong>A Fine Frenzy<strong>  
>"<strong>Warblers Are Particularly Good Finders"<strong>

**#11 – A Warbler breaking tradition**

Like any normal bus ride for the Warblers, the trip to King's Island consisted mainly of singing obnoxiously loud a capella versions of pop songs. The seventeen teenage boys sang while they loaded their suitcases into the storage compartment, while they boarded the bus, while they rode for two hours to the hotel, while they settled into their rooms. But when they boarded the bus again to ride to the theme park to meet with the organizers of the King's Island Fourth of July Extravaganza, Jeff changed the game.

"Excuse me!" the lanky blond called over the dulcet tones of Trent singing lead on Rhianna's "S&M." He stood in the aisle at the front of the bus facing his friends. "Guys? … Stop singing please? … Trent, shut up!"

Trent stopped abruptly in the middle of a lyric. Confusion quirked his brow. The many Warblers who had been harmonizing with him looked like Jeff had just kicked their particularly adorable puppies. Warblers never stopped singing on the bus.

"Sorry to change the rules of the game, but I think it will be worth it. Most of us have been to King's Island so many times it's hardly fun anymore. Plus we have ahead of us four long days without our gorgeous girlfriends and handsome boyfriends. As incoming Warbler Council member, I've taken it upon myself to arrange something to make the weekend a little more fun."

He ignored the random suggestions of his glee club – alcohol, strippers, X-Box – and produced a stack of papers which he passed down the aisle.

"Gentlemen – and future lady – " Cameron gave an exaggerated bow in his seat " – I present for your consideration, The Warblers' First Annual Totally Awesome King's Island Scavenger Hunt of Epic Proportions – or TWFATAKISHOEP, for short."

"Did you guys seriously elect him onto the Council?" Thad asked loudly.

"Come on, guys," Jeff pleaded. "Just look at the list, and you'll see how much fun this going to be! We'll have four days to find and take a picture of everything on the list. It's going to be totally awesome, epic even."

"I'm not getting that from the name," David deadpanned, pointing to the heading on the page: _The Warblers' First Annual Totally Awesome King's Island Scavenger Hunt of Epic Proportions (TWFATAKISHOEP)_.

Everyone would go along with the game because it was Jeff's idea, and every one of the Warblers adored Jeff. They pretended to read the list reluctantly, but only a few items down the page, and they all began grinning like Cheshire cats and bouncing around like five-year-old boys on a sugar high.

**#6 – An adult too short to ride a rollercoaster**

"Hey! Hey, Blaine! Want to go ride the Vortex as soon as we get there?" Flint called out.

Appreciative laughter broke out up and down both aisles.

**#5 – Kurt's Bitch Face™**

Blaine turned in his seat and rolled his eyes at Flint, who was hardly taller than him anyway. Flint responded by snapping a photo of Blaine.

"What the hell?" Blaine grumbled.

Flint had snapped the photo about four inches from his eyes, so he was momentarily blinded. The lead soloist pushed his hand away and scowled deeply at the baritone. Several other Warblers had caught on. Luke and Ethan tripped over each other trying to shove their phones in Blaine's face.

"Number five," Flint said, leaning back in his seat.

Blaine glanced down at the sheet of paper in his hand and rolled his eyes again. That set off another round of clicks.

"Guys, I'm not Kurt. Also, I don't really appreciate my boyfriend being referred to in that way."

"The paper in no way specifies Kurt must be wearing said Bitch Face. TM," Flint defended. Giggling while he said "TM" somewhat ruined the argument, however.

**#9 – A dinosaur wearing sunglasses**

Fifteen minutes later, the driver announced they had arrived as he put the bus into park. The Warblers gathered up their bags and unhooked garment bags containing their uniforms from the racks before filing off the bus.

"Thank you," Nick, the last one off the bus, murmured to the driver.

He paused and turned at the bottom of the steps to observe the elderly driver who had chauffeured the Warblers to competitions and performances for the last three years. He wore a floppy tweed hat today with amber Aviator sunglasses underneath. Nick lifted up his phone and snapped a picture.

"To document the whole experience," he said sweetly.

The driver shrugged and pulled the lever that shut the door. Nick jogged to catch up with the others. He felt a little guilty about taking the picture, especially since he knew Jeff wouldn't appreciate the interpretation.

The air conditioning of the backstage area felt good after the stuffy air on the bus and humidity outside. A helpful tech with a clipboard directed Wes to the proper dressing room where the Warblers could drop off their bags and uniforms. The room was small, clearly not meant for seventeen people, but the Warblers had made do with smaller rooms at competitions.

The show's producer came to say a few words to the Warblers about their performance times and warm up locations. He handed around backstage passes, but since they couldn't receive payment of any kind for their performance, Wes politely declined the park passes they had been offered. The boosters had purchased tickets for the weekend, however, so David passed those around.

"Let's get some lunch. I'm starving," Richard complained.

Outside the venue, the Warblers disbursed in three groups to go in search of food. An hour outside, and all the boys had come to the same conclusion – the waterpark would be much more fun than long lines to ride rollercoasters. It was also the only day they would get to swim without interruption since they would be performing twice daily Friday through Monday.

Once inside Boomerang Bay and changed into their swimming trunks, the boys immediately queued up for the best waterslide in the park: the Coolangatta Racer. Ever the fairest Warbler, Jeff insisted the races should take into account height and weight of the racers. The others left it up to him to line them up in groups of four.

"Let's have the featherlights go first," Flint said mockingly.

Blaine shot him a dirty look as Jeff pushed Blaine, Nick, Wes, and Cameron up to the waterslide first. The four boys lay down on their stomachs and waited for the signal to shoot out of the loading area. Blaine gripped the sides of his mat tightly and angled his body towards the inside of the long loop before flying out into the middle right lane and racing downhill neck-and-neck with Nick. He heard Cameron yelling joyfully to his right, and Wes just plain yelling to his left.

Not surprisingly, the slightly taller and heavier Nick won the race, but Blaine came in a close second and Cameron third. Wes had lost his mat in the loop tube and sported several ugly red welts from creases in the slide. His mat floated to a stop at his feet a full minute after the race had ended. He stomped off the slide scowling.

**#14 – A bird's eye view of the park**

Jeff, Thad, Trent, and Flint took their turn second. Waiting by the slide, the four boys who had already gone could see Flint descended with only one hand on the mat. His other hand extended high over his head.

"What is he doing?" Blaine asked. He squinted, but couldn't see very clearly without his glasses or contacts in.

"What a dumbass," Nick stated bluntly. "He took his iPhone on a waterslide?"

Predictably, at the first bump in the slide, Flint instinctively grasped the map with two hands, thus submerging his iPhone completely underwater. When he came to the end of the slide, he leapt up and started shaking his phone, as if that would make it come back to life.

"Why, Flint?" Thad laughed. Thad had won the race and saw the junior's dead phone underwater from his place at the finish line.

"The scavenger hunt. I was trying to take a picture from the top of the waterslide."

"You're supposed to do that from a rollercoaster," Jeff said, shaking his head in disgust.

Flint was not the only one to have the same idea. James also ruined his iPhone trying to get the same picture.

"Seriously?" Wes demanded, still in a bad mood. "Dalton has the most challenging academic program in Ohio, and this is the kind of student the school turns out?"

"I know, I know," Thad said, shaking his head in mock disgust. "Kids these days."

"Why, oh why, did our teachers waste time on e equals mc squared," David wailed, "when they should have taught electronics plus water equals death!"

A thoroughly not amused Wes walked off.

**#15 – The most annoying person in the world**

The four winners of the races – Nick, Thad, Luke, and Richard – hung around the slide for awhile longer to go for the "Ultimate Waterslide Champion" title. The rest of the Warblers wandered away in smaller groups to explore some of the other waterslides and attractions around the park.

"You want to put that in the locker room so they can at least have your memory cards when you're forced to buy new phones?" Blaine asked, as sympathetically as his smug question allowed.

Flint shrugged and James nodded. The three boys went off to the locker room together. While Flint and James stored their ruined phones, Blaine pulled out his perfectly dry, safely stored phone and snapped a picture of Flint.

"Number fifteen. Just for today, unless you keep it up with the height remarks," Blaine explained.

"Really? When you could have taken a picture of Gilbert Gottfried."

Blaine furrowed his brow at Flint. "Iago is boss. But, wait, what? Is Gilbert Gottfried here?"

"Oh, probably not."

"Oh my God," James groaned. "You really are too stupid for Dalton."

The rest of the day passed mostly uneventfully. With their phones in the locker room, the Warblers didn't attempt to harass each other or anyone else with the scavenger hunt. They enjoyed the waterslides, rafting, and wave pools until the park closed and they were forced to dry off and go back to the bus waiting for them in the parking lot.

Once back at the hotel, however, anything was fair game. Cameron had the idea that a game of hotel hide-and-seek would be fun. There was only one rule, and it was simple to follow – no hiding in private rooms. Thad was chosen as the Seeker, and the rest of the Warblers scattered.

Thad honestly had no interest in playing hide-and-seek. He suspected the hotel staff would kick them out if they made too much of a ruckus in the public areas anyway. He only wanted the opportunity to complete more of the scavenger hunt.

**#16 – Wes's gavel in a compromising position**

Rather than searching for hiding Warblers, he made his way up to the room he shared with Wes, David, and Flint. He rummaged quickly through Wes's small suitcase until he found what he'd come searching for: the gavel. He was halfway through setting up the scene for the photograph when Flint burst through the door.

The two boys stared at one another for a moment, and then Flint's eyes slid to the scene on the end of Wes and David's bed. His hearty laughter echoed off the bare hotel walls. Thad smirked and went back to arranging the scene.

"Wes is going to freaking kill you," Flint giggled.

Thad shrugged and stepped back to snap a picture of the gavel, an unrolled condom, Cameron's lip gloss (with the label hidden), and picture of David on the mussed up sheets.

Meanwhile, down in the lobby, Trent had also found the perfect opportunity to get further ahead in the scavenger hunt. From his concealed vantage point wedged between a column and the concierge desk, he had a clear view of the hotel lobby. Not many Warblers had wanted to hide in such an open space or so near the hotel staff, but Trent had picked it for that very reason. Thad wouldn't immediately come searching there.

**#12 – Scandalous Paparazzi-style photograph of a Warbler **

Curiously, Trent saw a familiar face entering the hotel and crossing the lobby within fifteen minutes of taking his hiding place. Simon, Jeff's boy toy of the week, strode to the elevators on high heeled boots that couldn't possibly come from a men's line. Trent bolted from his hiding place and raced to the stairs. He took the stairs two at a time and peered through the square glass in the stairwell door. His breath came heavily from the frantic four story climb, but the exertion proved worthwhile.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal Simon a moment later. He paused to type on his phone, and a moment later a door opened down the hall and Jeff peered out. Trent scrambled for his phone. To get a good shot, he'd need to sneak into the hallway. Carefully, he eased the stairwell door open and leaned halfway out. He snapped the photograph without Jeff or Simon noticing anything. The image on the screen showed the boys attached at the mouth with their hands groping south.

Not only was Trent one step ahead in the scavenger hunt, but he had blackmail material against a Council member now.

"Hellooooo, competition solo," he said with a self-satisfied grin.

An opening door down the hall caused Trent to turn awkwardly, half his body still in the stairwell and the door pressing uncomfortably on his midsection. Thad and Flint stared at him with arched brows.

"That is the worst hiding spot ever," Thad said flatly.

"I'm not hiding. I'm spying," the junior grumbled.

"That is the worst spying spot ever," Thad returned.

Trent huffed indignantly and wiggled out of the doorway.

**#17 – Rule-breaking in progress**

The game of hide-and-seek ended twenty minutes later when Thad found James and Luke hiding behind the vending machines on the third floor. Instead of conceding defeat with grace and maturity, they made a break for it. Blaine – who saw the whole thing from his hiding place – snapped a photograph of James and Luke running from Thad with an outraged hotel manager screaming in the background.

After the day's events – in particular the many slights against his height – Blaine decided against coming to their rescue. Instead, he padded up to his hotel room to turn in for the night. While the rest of the Warblers figured out something had gone awry with their game, he would be able to text Kurt in peace.

He ended up instead texting Kurt from the floor outside his hotel room since Jeff had wisely dead bolted the door.

Over the course of the next four days, the Warblers found less and less time to complete their scavenger hunt. Between opening the park in the morning with the national anthem and two performances per day, plus warm-up times, they really only had evenings free to explore the theme park.

**#2 – A Dalton alum**

Because Wes, David, Thad, and Luke were still performing with the Warblers, everyone completed the second item on the list easily. The four boys posed willingly for a quite a few pictures, as this would be their last trip with the Warblers (minus the Renaissance Faire in August, but that would be with New Directions as well). But just taking a photograph wasn't good enough for most Warblers.

Nick and Jeff slipped into the graduates' hotel room on Sunday night and snapped photographs of them asleep, with stuffed animals Jeff had purchased at the hotel gift store, in makeup, and in various states of undress.

**#1 – A rainbow**

Despite their busy schedule, occasionally, someone would have a bright idea how to annoy his fellow Warblers and act on it during the day. Flint decided a picture of Blaine, Jeff, and Cameron counted towards the first item on the list.

**#4 – An **_**Alice in Wonderland**_** reference**

In retaliation, the three boys bought red beanies with helicopter spinners for Flint and James. The fact that they didn't understand made the joke that much funnier.

By Sunday, Wes had progressed from angry to irate. He had seen photographs of himself drooling, clutching a stuffed duck, and covered in glitter circulating among the Warblers. To his horror, some of the photographs had made their way onto Facebook and his future roommates at NYU had "liked" them. On top of that, there was the gavel/condom/lube/David photograph fiasco.

"I am going to win this," Wes stated vehemently.

Red blotches had appeared on his cheeks and spit flew from between his lips. Blaine skittered backwards to avoid the spittle, but Wes had already decided his successor must be his accomplice in winning the scavenger hunt.

So Blaine found himself dragged around King's Island between performances on Sunday, checking his pocket watch compulsively. Not only was Wes the Warblers' leader and Blaine their future leader, but both boys had solos in the show and couldn't afford to be a minute late.

"Number 13!" Wes called.

**#13 – Nagini**

He had clamped a fist around Blaine's wrist and pulled the younger boy along behind him. Blaine reviewed the paper with a cocked eyebrow.

"Uh, Wes? I think this one is a joke. There's no way we're actually going to find – "

"No, no. I've got a plan, Blaine. A brilliant plan."

Blaine kind of wished "Warbler gone mad" appeared somewhere on the list because he would have the competition in the bag. Unfortunately, Jeff apparently thought that one would be too easy. He had to put fictional pets/soul piggy banks on the list instead.

Wes threw up his arms triumphantly as he slid into a rollercoaster line. "See! My plan is amazing!" He took a picture of the sign declaring the rollercoaster to be KING COBRA.

"Wes … I don't think this counts," Blaine said gently.

"What? Of course it does! Nagini is a snake. A cobra is a snake. I found Nagini!"

Blaine raised his palms in the universal sign of surrender. Part of him felt sorry for Wes. It was so easy to tease him because he got his feathers ruffled so quickly. Another part of him couldn't wait to see the look on Wes's face when the other Warblers rejected this one.

"Do we actually have to go on the ride? Or can we go back to the pavilion? I really think we're going to be late for the performance if we wait in line."

**#8 – A cloud shaped like a warbler**

Wes gave in and stepped out of line behind Blaine, but insisted on finding another item on their way back to the venue. He craned his neck skyward at the nimbus clouds floating languidly through the forget-me-not-blue sky.

"Aha!" Wes shouted.

He raised his phone to take a picture – of what Blaine had no idea – but the sun glared off the screen, and he couldn't see where he aimed the lens. Blaine watched in fascination as Wes danced around in a square several times trying to take a picture of a cloud. At last, in desperation, Wes lay down on the ground in the shade of a game booth. Blaine tried not to gag.

"Get off the ground, Wesley!" he chided. "Gah. Think about all the spilled soda and gum and thousands of dirty shoes."

Wes hit the button on his touch screen to take the picture and cried out in victory.

Blaine dropped his head on his chin and rubbed his forehead delicately. His friend had gone absolutely insane. He threw his hands up in the air and turned to walk back to the venue, which was now within sight. A screeching girl drew his attention back to Wes.

"Oh my God! That guy is trying to take a picture up my skirt!"

Blaine's neck whipped around. He was caught between horror and hilarity watching Wes scramble up from the ground and hastily back away from the girl's beefy boyfriend.

"No, no," Wes insisted. "I was taking a picture of a bird-shaped cloud."

Blaine shook his head. Of all the excuses to come up with, the truth sounded like the stupidest. He would have to save Wes before a punch to the jaw ruined their duet. Sucking in a deep breath – and praying the beefcake wasn't homophobic – Blaine did his best imitation of Kurt's flounce and twined his arm with Wes's.

"Are you ready to go, Wesley?" Blaine asked, exaggerating his flamboyant voice – the one he normally reserved only for Kurt. Wes did a double take. "We have to hurry if we don't want to miss the start of the show."

Blaine took the opportunity to drag Wes away. Luckily, beefcake and his banshee girlfriend relented, clearly thinking they must have been wrong. Wes tried to wriggle out of Blaine's grip, but the lead soloist only tightened his hold.

"What if they're still watching?" Blaine shot a dirty look at Wes. "I hope your damned warbler cloud was worth it. But, for the record, that cloud actually looked like a castle."

They argued the whole way back to the pavilion about the cloud shape.

**o o o**

Jeff summoned all Warblers to the room he shared with Nick, Blaine, and Cameron at Sunday night via mass text message. The Warblers had plans for their last night without parental supervision, but they didn't dare ignore a future Council member. Once all seventeen Warblers had positioned themselves on the few chairs, beds (Blaine and Nick avoided Jeff's), and floor, Jeff cleared his throat and addressed his glee club.

"I regret to inform you that, due to copious and blatant cheating, TWFATAKISHOEP has been cancelled."

It took the Warblers a moment to remember TWFATAKISHOEP stood for The Warblers' First Annual Totally Awesome King's Island Scavenger Hunt of Epic Proportions. Protests and moans erupted from around the room. The scavenger hunt had consumed their free time all weekend.

"I demand an explanation!" Trent bellowed.

Jeff cocked an eyebrow. "Well, okay."

**#3 – Rodent of Unusual Size**

He spun his laptop around, which he had loaded with scavenger hunt photos from every Warbler who had forwarded them so far. The first image he brought up was a badly Photoshopped image of Mickey Mouse standing beneath the King's Island entrance.

"Unlikely," Jeff stated. "Even without the obvious choppy border and poor blending around Mickey, I seriously doubt Disney would send its mascot to a theme park owned by Paramount."

**#7 – A celebrity look-alike**

He hit the enter button and the slideshow jumped to a picture of Gilbert Gottfried. Whoever submitted it – Flint, most likely – hadn't even bothered to try and remove the "Getty Images" watermark in the center of the picture. Blaine and James snorted in laughter.

"Okay, so the list asked for a celebrity look-alike. Not a celebrity," Jeff said. "Still, obviously this is cheating."

**#10 – A four-leaf clover and the good luck it brought you**

He tapped the enter key again, and another bad photo manipulation popped up. This one showed David holding an empty Guinness glass and pointing to the logo. Behind him stood a gaggle of scantily-clad celebrities, including Angelina Jolie and Snooki.

"But – but I found everything on the list!" Wes protested. "Just disqualify the cheaters. The rest of us shouldn't have to suffer."

"It's just a game, Wes," Nicholas dared to suggest.

Wes looked about ready to jump off the bed and bodily tackle the sophomore. Jeff called Blaine and Cameron up to the front of the room. The future Council deliberated on what to do for several minutes.

"I can't believe this is their first decision as the 2011-2012 Council," Thad stated, shaking his head sadly.

"We've talked it over," Jeff announced. "No one found everything on the list without cheating."

"I did!" Wes objected.

"Not really," Cameron said delicately. "Some of your submissions are … eh, questionable."

Wes sputtered indignantly while several other Warblers tried to make a case for their victory. It continued until the angry hotel staff came to threatened them with expulsion for the second time that weekend. Blaine and Nick ushered the other boys out of their hotel room and back to their own.

Blaine and Cameron rounded on Jeff. His brilliant idea had turned their weekend into a nonstop stream of irritation.

"Let's just watch a movie like we planned, okay?" Jeff feebly suggested.

"Fine," Blaine huffed.

Chuckling to himself, Nick purchased a movie from the pay-per-view channel on the screen and leaned back against his pillow as _The Goonies_ started. His choice earned him evil eyes from Blaine and Cameron, but Jeff perked up immediately.

"Oh, man! Next trip, we should totally do a treasure hunt!"


	8. Caught in a Bad Bromance

**Previously in _A Fine Frenzy_ ...**

_"I don't like this," Burt stated again, as he watched the boys loading up the suitcases into the back of Kurt's Navigator. He crossed his arms and huffed for the fifth time in the last sixty seconds. Carole rubbed his upper arm comfortingly. "They're too young for a road trip."_

_"Oh, Burt!" his wife scoffed. "It's hardly a road trip. St. Louis is seven hours away. We sent Finn and Kurt farther for Nationals on a plane and to a huge city."_

_"That was different. That was a school trip supervised by a responsible teacher. This … this is Kurt and his boyfriend going on vacation together. I might as well have handed them a box of condoms and patted them on the back." He swallowed thickly. "Oh, God. I'm one of _those_ parents. I feel sick."_

_"You are not one of _those_ parents, Burt. Kurt and Blaine will both have their brothers there, and I'm sure Blaine's mother will want to spend a lot of time with him since they'll be the same city for once."_

**o o o**

_Blaine, Kurt, Riley, and Finn repeated the adventure of Monday for the rest of the week. If Grace didn't have a class or showing, she joined the boys at whatever activity they had picked for the day. Kurt endured the Cardinals game with minimal complaining ..._

* * *

><p><strong>A Fine Frenzy<strong>  
><strong>"Caught in a Bad Bromance"<strong>

"Nachos. I need nachos now."

"Oh my God! Nachos! With cheese _and_ Spanish sauce."

And so the conversation continued across Kurt while he stared pointedly ahead at the manicured lawn and the indecipherable lines on the baseball diamond. One eyebrow arched dramatically over the top of his dark sunglasses and his lips formed a thin line, but neither his boyfriend nor brother seemed to notice his displeasure.

This baseball game could not begin soon enough. Kurt hardly believed he'd let himself be dragged to the baseball game at all, but apparently a favorite team playing a home game amounted to a special event. Blaine had been so excited to see the Cardinals play in St. Louis, and Kurt didn't have the heart to complain.

He shifted on the uncomfortable plastic seat and tried not to notice the hideous fashion choices of everyone around him. Jeans and Cardinals t-shirts seemed to be the order of the day, and Kurt could handle that. It was the fashion challenged masses adding fanny packs and mismatched purses and tattered tennis shoes into the mix that made his skin crawl. Did sports fans have no dignity?

"Mmm." Finn waved his hands in the air frantically, as if he'd just hit upon a brilliant philosophical truth that would explain the meaning of life. "_Chili dogs!_"

"_Chili dogs!_"

Blaine moaned the words in a way that Kurt had come to associate with intimate touches. His irritation at his boyfriend increased tenfold. To think disgusting processed food elicited the same reaction …. Kurt huffed indignantly.

"You two are being obscene. If you're hungry, go get something to eat."

His boyfriend and brother's faces lit up, and Kurt sighed deeply. How had the excruciatingly simple concept of eating when hungry eluded his boyfriend? He went to a college preparatory school. It must be something related to the baseball diamond. Entering an athletic venue immediately made one stupider. Hence the row of chubby men down front slathered in red body paint who had misspelled Cardinals.

"Do you want anything?" Blaine asked, gently stroking the skin on the back of Kurt's hand.

The sensation sent shivers up Kurt's spine, but his eyes flicked up to the Cardinals baseball hat jammed onto Blaine's head. Who needed a cold shower when there were baseball hats in this world? He shook his head. If he opened his mouth right now, he would insult the hat … again.

"We'll be right back," his boyfriend promised.

Kurt swiveled his eyes to watch Blaine and Finn charge up the stadium steps towards the concourse where they would find nachos and chili dogs and fifteen other kinds of food promising a triple bypass at age thirty-five.

It amused him to see Blaine and Finn together these days. The height difference alone put a smile on his lips. But, really, Kurt enjoyed watching them find commonalities. Even though Kurt would have given one of his kidneys to skip this baseball game, he could at least enjoy watching Blaine and Finn bond.

Kurt was thoroughly less amused at what the announcer said was "the bottom of the first" when they still had not returned.

**o o o**

"Oh my God … it's pizza in a breadstick!"

Blaine gazed open-mouthed at the menu board Finn pointed to. He had to shift a little to see through the crowd whereas Finn stood head and shoulders above everyone else in line. When he finally caught a glimpse of the delicious pizza/breadstick, his mouth started to water.

"This is the best day ever!" Blaine bounced around with as much energy as during his performances. "I'm at a Cardinals home game in awesome seats with my boyfriend and his brother and – "

" – you're gonna eat pizza in a breadstick!" Finn finished.

That brought Blaine up short. He didn't love food _that_ much. Actually, he planned on mentioning the shows he was doing all week at Six Flags, but he let it slide. He knew how important food was to Finn.

They each purchased nachos, chili dogs, and giant sodas. (Blaine got Diet Coke because he knew Kurt would drink out of his cup). They agreed to split an order of pizza/breadsticks. The total came to nearly $50, which Blaine admitted was exorbitant, but today was special.

"What's going on over there?" Finn asked.

He motioned to a winding queue with half a pizza/breadstick in hand and the other half in his mouth. Blaine shrugged. There was no way he could see over the crowd. Finn stood on his toes to get a better look. His boyish face lit up a moment later, and he looked down at Blaine excitedly.

"It's a singing contest for some radio station. We could totally win this with a duet!"

Blaine didn't need to be asked twice. The crowd parted easily for Finn, and Blaine trailed in his wake. They discussed song selection and ate their heap of food as the line slowly crept forward. As they came closer to the booth, they had to sing a capella for an intern to prove they were even worthy of making it onto the radio. She waved them on without hesitation. Finn and Blaine high-fived.

"And we're back with our next contestants," the DJ said into the microphone. "It looks like this one is going to be a duet. What are your names, guys?"

"Finn Hudson."

"And Blaine Anderson."

"Do you guys sing together a lot? Are you in a band?"

"Sort of. We're in glee club, and we're in a musical together this summer," Finn answered.

"All right. Let's hear what you've got for us!"

Finn, the consummate drummer, gave the count and they began singing the song they'd decided on in line. Their voices created a perfect tenor-baritone harmony variation on the classic rock duet from two of the greatest artists of all time.

**o o o**

Kurt frowned deeply at the "no signal" icon on his phone and shoved it deep into his pocket. While the rest of the crowd around him leapt to their feet to celebrate the Cardinals scoring a touchdown or making a goal or whatever it was one did in baseball, he crossed his arms over his chest and dreamed of ways to punish his brother and boyfriend for neglecting him.

Without warning, Finn appeared in the aisle and jumped over Kurt's legs. The tall boy plopped down into his seat with a huge grin on his face. His hands were noticeably empty. Blaine sat down on Kurt's other side with more dignity, but with the same stupid smile.

"Weren't you two meant to be getting food?" he asked shortly.

"We ate it while were waiting in line for the signing contest," Finn explained.

Kurt did a double take. He wanted to be upset that they'd entered a singing contest without him, but then he reminded himself any singing competition at a baseball stadium would likely include more Mellencamp and less Sondheim.

"What did you sing? Did you win?"

"We got to sing live on the radio!" Finn gushed. "We talked about glee club and our musical, and then we sang "Under Pressure"."

"So … you talked about glee club and musicals and then did a song by Queen and David Bowie?" Finn and Blaine both nodded enthusiastically. "You talked about _glee club_ and _musicals_ and then did a song by _Queen_ and _David Bowie_?"

The homoerotic subtext completely escaped the boys who had been captivated by the baseball game. Kurt enjoyed the little joke in silence, pondering the many, many, _many_ ways he could use it against his brother and boyfriend in the future.

"What? _What!_" Blaine shouted.

Kurt started and clutched a hand to his chest. He stared wide-eyed at his boyfriend, who had become so angry he had literally spit. Yet another reason to detest sports: they turned even dapper homosexuals into barbarians.

"That was such a bullshit call!" Finn bellowed.

Blaine leaned far over Kurt to shout at Finn over the crowd's thunderous disapproval. "They always do that to him! Why do they always do that to him!"

Kurt forced himself further back against his seat as Finn too leaned over him to speak to Blaine in the form of cryptic conversation that only sports fans could understand. He tapped his foot impatiently, which Blaine usually noticed, but to no avail. Blaine had eyes and ears for Finn only. They were practically sitting on Kurt's lap, but ignoring him entirely.

Maybe Kurt could have forgiven one of these exchanges, but they continued happening through the second, third, fourth – and _dear god_ how long did baseball games last! – innings. In fact, the only time they paid any attention to Kurt at all was when he mistakenly referred to "baseball quarters." Kurt tried every trick in his book to get Blaine's attention: foot-tapping, finger-tapping, bitch faces, arched brows, and even the all purpose white button-down of attention-grabbers, the thigh rub.

But no. Blaine watched baseball, and Blaine talked to Finn.

It all came to a head in the sixth inning – no, seriously, how long _did_ baseball games last? – when Finn startled Kurt out of his annoyed reverie, in which he acted out his frustrations by screaming obscenities and subsequently ignoring the boys for a month.

"Hey, Kurt. Would you mind trading seats with me so I can sit next to Blaine?"

Kurt's jaw fell open like it hadn't since Blaine sang about sex toys in a GAP. He stared disbelievingly at his brother.

"You want to sit in my seat … _between_ me and my boyfriend?"

"Or you could switch seats with me," Blaine added from his other side. "Then I could sit between you and Finn."

Kurt rounded on him. "_Really?_"

"We want to talk about the game, and you're kind of in the way."

"I think what Finn meant to say," Blaine hastened to say, _finally_ recognizing the dangerous light in Kurt's eye, "is that we feel terribly about talking over you."

"Oh? So instead you'd rather sit next to each other and exclude me entirely? You know, when we decided to come to St. Louis, I was a little worried Finn would end up being the third wheel, but now I can see that I should have thought more about myself."

Kurt stood up abruptly and stared down his nose at Blaine. The people in the row behind shouted at Kurt to sit down. He threw them his fiercest glare, which he now realized worked even against three hundred pound lumberjacks, judging by the man's beard and abuse of plaid. Blaine sidled behind Kurt and gingerly sat down between his boyfriend and his boyfriend's brother.

"Kurt …," he started softly.

The stadium erupted in cheers as the Cardinals scored a goal or made a base or whatever baseball players ran around in circles to accomplish. Blaine almost ruined his apology by allowing his head to swivel towards the baseball diamond, but caught himself at the last moment.

"I know you and Finn have had your differences in the past, but you told me yourself he's been trying really hard to educate himself. He's been nothing but friendly and accepting towards me and us," Blaine persisted. "Don't you want us to get along?"

"Yes, I want you to be friendly; I don't want you to be bromantic."

Blaine completely ignored the crowd jumping around in jubilation. Kurt vaguely noticed their elation and wondered if they'd all won free coupons for half off an unlimited supply of Hungry Man meals or fishing gear or a weekend camping trip in the Ozarks or some other prosaic hobby mutually shared by sports enthusiasts.

Kurt thought for a moment he and Blaine were about to have a fight over Finn in the middle of a baseball game. He dreaded the thought, especially since they were on vacation and this game meant so much to Blaine. He instantly regretted being such a diva today and started an apology. Yes, his boyfriend and brother were being incredibly irritating, but it wouldn't kill Kurt to cut them some slack just for today.

"Flaine."

Kurt froze with the "I'm sorry" on his lips. His jaw snapped shut, and he glared at his boyfriend with narrowed eyes. Finn turned away from the game, and for once, cottoned on quick enough to join the conversation.

"Blinn."

"Faine."

Slowly, Kurt swiveled around in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. Baseball might be deadly boring, but even watching men in stirrup pants run around in a circle beat listening to Finn and Blaine give their bromance a cute portmanteau name.

"Huderson."

"Fine."

Kurt released a long-suffering sigh and tried to think of anything other than the beginning of what was sure to become an epic bromance.


	9. All About Rachel

**Author's Note: ** I wrote this little drabble right after "Caught in a Bad Bromance." Consider it an extention of the last one-shot.

* * *

><p><strong>Previously in <em>A Fine Frenzy: Outtakes<em> ...**

_"Flaine."_

_Kurt froze with the "I'm sorry" on his lips. His jaw snapped shut, and he glared at his boyfriend with narrowed eyes. Finn turned away from the game, and for once, cottoned on quick enough to join the conversation._

_"Blinn."_

_"Faine."_

_Slowly, Kurt swiveled around in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. Baseball might be deadly boring, but even watching men in stirrup pants run around in a circle beat listening to Finn and Blaine give their bromance a cute portmanteau name._

_"Huderson."_

_"Fine."_

_Kurt released a long-suffering sigh and tried to think of anything other than the beginning of what was sure to become an epic bromance.**  
><strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>A Fine Frenzy <strong>  
><strong>"All About Rachel"<strong>

A fiery explosion killed Finn's game character, and the tall baritone threw his controller down in disgust. Beside him, Blaine had jumped up onto the couch and danced around in victory. After a moment of reveling in his glory, the shorter boy sat back down.

"Four out of seven?"

"No way, dude. I'm done. How did you get this good?"

The question dampened Blaine's enthusiasm considerably. He'd never brought up the topic with anyone but a few Warblers and Kurt. Finn had heard about it in passing, so Blaine didn't see the harm in being honest.

"I missed a lot of school my freshman year."

"Wha – _Oh_." Finn shifted around uncomfortably. "Do you ever …. Uh, nevermind."

"You can ask me, Finn."

"Nah. Rachel's always telling me I should be more sensitive. Probably what I was going to ask is really offensive."

"Yeah, I noticed she likes 'improving' her boyfriends. When we were on our date, she told me I said way too many inappropriate things, and I needed to stop."

Blaine felt the mocking sting of her criticism as silence fell between the two teenagers. He began to fill the void with some benign statement about the video game or music, but second-guessed himself. What if changing the subject itself was inappropriate just now? But what if talking about it was also inappropriate? And if he was inherently inappropriate, how could he accurately judge either way?

Finn chuckled darkly. "She's in your head too, isn't she?" The shorter boy looked up wide-eyed and nodded. "Yeah, I thought so. You kind of had this crazy look on your face."

Blaine wanted to comment on how Finn could tell the difference between a crazy Rachel-Berry-in-my-head look and a crazy I'm-going-to-murder-you-because-I-heard-God-on-the-radio look, but he imagined that would come out inappropriately.

"Am I ever going to be able to get her out of my head?"

Finn shook his head sadly. "It's okay for me, because I love her. But it will probably really suck for you. Sorry, man." He paused for a beat, but then charged on bravely. "Can I ask you something? Why did you date her in the first place?"

"It's kind of complicated." He sighed sadly. "I'm not sure you'd understand unless you were gay and had a disapproving father. I'd really rather not talk about it, Finn, if that's okay. It's kind of a sore subject. Kurt and I had our first fight about it."

The other boy nodded. "No, that's cool. I just, uh … I just wanted to make sure that you're really, really gay because Kurt's my little brother. And, you know, because I love Rachel. And I guess you're all moving to New York next year."

Blaine chuckled. "I'm proud to say that I am really, _really_ gay. Just to clear the air, Finn: I don't have romantic feelings towards Rachel. I love Kurt. There's no one else for me but Kurt."

The boys fell into a comfortable silence while Finn took the video game out of the console. He turned back to the couch holding up Halo and Call of Duty. Blaine pointed to Halo, which Finn slid into the console.

"Don't you think it's kind of funny how Kurt and Rachel have the same taste in guys?" Finn asked. "First they were, like, fighting over me. And then they both wanted you. It's kind of funny, right?"

Finn went quiet and hunched his shoulders in shame. Rachel would be so mad at him for saying something so insensitive. He thought about assuring Blaine that Kurt only thought of him as a brother now, but didn't that sound like he was rubbing it in? Then he thought he'd say it didn't matter anyway because he was straight, but that might make him sound homophobic. But since he was always so insensitive, he could have it all wrong anyway.

"_Oh_ … I see it now," Blaine said. "Yeah, there's definitely a difference between the crazy Rachel-Berry-in-my-head look and the crazy I'm-going-to-murder-you-because-I-heard-God-on-the-radio look."

The boys nodded sadly in unison. They had way more in common than anyone could have suspected.

* * *

><p>I think this will be the last outtake from <em>A Fine Frenzy<em> that I'm going to post, so I'm marking the story as complete now. There may be more in the future, but I haven't written any in a long time. I've moved on to writing other stories for now which are set in other 'verses, so my head isn't really in the right place to continue these at the moment.

Thank you for reading these outtakes. I so appreciate everyone who followed me to this series from _A Fine Frenzy_. I love you all and hope to see your pennames again in the future and on other stories.

Love,  
>Heather<p> 


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